


Behold: the Baba Yaga Guild

by WaltzingTheFaePaths



Category: Fairy Tail, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Hermione Granger, Gen, Pre-Hogwarts, Slow Burn, Squibs, learning magic from manga, more modern setting, some things will change due to magic, warning for use of google translate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:19:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7500951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaltzingTheFaePaths/pseuds/WaltzingTheFaePaths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wisteria "Terry" Petrovya, the daughter of two Squibs, finds a friend in Harry Potter when she and her dad move into Number Ten, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.</p><p> </p><p>Harry held up Volume One.  “‘The power to overcome reasoning is born from reasoning.  Magic isn’t a miracle.  When the ‘spirit’ that flows through us, and the ‘spirit’ flow in nature connects, they will form an embodiment for the first time…  Pouring your soul into whatever you do is the magic.’”<br/>“You really want to do this?”  Terry asked softly.  Harry nodded.  “Harry, there is magic in this world.  You and me, we’re actually wizards.”<br/>“Not yet,” Harry said firmly.  “But we will be, once we learn our magic.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introducing Terry Petrovya

**Author's Note:**

> This is a terrible case of "Attack of Plot Bunny That Refused to Leave"
> 
> Basically inspired by Araceil's "Fairy Tail" on ff.net. In this, Harry's had his birthday bumped up by twenty years, and is introduced to the manga by the new neighbour on his block, squib-born witch-to-be, Wisteria Vasilisa Petrovya. Un-betaed

**September 1st 2009**

“Baba Yaga eats bullies, you know.”

There were certain rules in the world that Harry Potter lived in. There was no post on Sundays, no one at school would ever like “that weird Potter orphan”, and the Dursleys would always hate magic. The world of Privet Drive and Little Winging followed these rules – well, until today.

“You wanna be next, new girl?” Duddley sneered.

Harry peaked around his massive cousin, and caught sight of wild chocolate curls and a stubbornly-set mouth on a tiny body.

“I’d be afraid of Baba Yaga if I was you,” The tiny girl told him, whole body practically vibrating with fury.

“An’ who’s that, anyway?” Dudley demanded.

The girl drew herself up to her full, unimpressive, height. “She’s a witch in Russia,” She said proudly. “who has iron teeth and a giant nose, and loves to eat loveless villains, and bullies, and rotten children.” Dudley’s piggy face had bleached white. “She’ll come and cook you up too, you know.”

With that said, Dudley had dragged his cronies away, leaving Harry behind with the new girl, for once without any new bruises to show for the encounter.

“Um, thanks, I guess.” Harry mumbled.

She flashed him a brittle grin. “Pozhaluysta. I’m Wisteria Petrovya – call me Terry.”

“Harry Potter.” Harry answered, shaking her outstretched hand, and ignoring the weird look she was suddenly giving him. “Why’d you do that?”

Terry shrugged. “Life’s too short to not stand up to bullies, don’t you think?”

Harry shrugged back. “Uh, you’re new this year, aren’t you?”

Terry’s lips thinned. “Yeah. We just moved here from London, so that we could be closer to my gran.”

“Oh. Is, uh, she sick?”

“No.”

“Um, well, that’s good?” Harry honestly wasn’t sure what to make of this strange new girl. Nobody had ever spoken with him for this long before, either, so he was a little bit lost.

“Not really. We moved so that she can look after me whilst Papochka is at work.”

Harry bit his lip. “Do your parents both work a lot?”

Terry sneered. “Papochka is a busy doctor. My Mum is dead, so I have to stay with Gran when he’s busy.”

“… I’m sorry. I don’t have a mum, either. Or a dad.”

Terry cocked her head to one side, considering. “We’re the same, then. Hey, d’you know anything about Manga?”

“Um, no? Sorry.”

“Well, I can always introduce you!” Terry said cheerfully. “Wanna be friends?”

Shocked green eyes stared into cornflower blue. 

“M-me?!” Harry asked. “You want to be friends with me? But Dudley and everyone will pick on you then.”

Terry’s smile was horribly sharp. “Let him try. Anyway, what’s your answer?”

Harry grinned back brightly. “Sure!!”

Terry smirked, and pulled a small book out of her satchel. “This is Fairy Tail!” Terry said cheerfully. “It’s my favourite at the moment.”

“What’s it about?” Harry asked politely.

Terry gave him a sly grin. “Magic! And adventure!”

Harry bit his lips. “My family doesn’t like magic much.”

Terry shrugged. “Then we don’t tell them. Here. You read from back to front, right to left. This is Volume One. I’ve got up to Volume Six, but I read the translations online, as well.”

Harry was only a few pages in when the bell to announce the end of lunch.

“Can I sit with you?” Terry asked as they made their way back to the classroom. “I get the feeling that Annie doesn’t like me much.”

“Ok,” Harry said brightly. “But only if I can walk home with you after.”

Terry smirked. “Mm, easy dealings. Where’s your place?”

“Number Four, Privet Drive.”

Terry gave a bark of laughter. “I’m at Number Ten! Harry, I sense the beginning of a beautiful friendship!”

-_-_-_-_-_- -_-_-_-_-_- -_-_-_-_-_- -_-_-_-_-_- -_-_-_-_-_- -_-_-_-_-_- -_-_-_-_-_- -_-_-_-_-_- -_-_-_-_-_- -_-_-_-_-_- -_-_-_-_-_- -_-_-_-_-_-

The walk home from school that day was perhaps the best Harry had ever experienced. Terry had a quick, dry humour, and she had a weird point of view as well. The fact that they were both small and skinny, with wild hair, made it easy for the two to become fast friends, and (in the way of small children) by the time they had arrived at Number Ten, Harry felt as though Terry Petrovya had always been a part of his life. 

“Papochka won’t be home yet,” Terry told him, unlocking the back door and picking up a small black-and-grey kitten before it could escape. “He doesn’t get off work until five, so it’s just us and Temnaya.”

“Your cat’s name is Temnaya?” Harry asked.

“Temnaya Polnoch’,” Terry told him proudly, scratching the fluffy thing behind an ear. “Gran gave her to me after Mum died.”

Harry blushed at that. “Sorry. I didn’t mean – ”

“It’s nothing,” Terry said brusquely. “You didn’t know. Anyway, would you like anything?”

“Oh, um, just water, thanks. I should probably go back and let my aunt and uncle know where I am, I’m supposed to do chores today.”

Terry eyed him, before putting Temnaya on her shoulder. “Well, I’ll come with. I don’t want to be alone, either, so I’ll help you. I’ll just let Gran know.” She raced over to the house phone, and within a minute, had let her grandmother know about the change of plans – with strict instructions to return to Number Five Magnolia Crescent, should she be turned away.

“Lead on, Harry!” Terry said cheerfully, once she’d changed out of her uniform into jeans and a daggy jumper. “Temnaya, plecho.” Once the girl was crouched in front of her, the small kitten launched herself straight onto her mistress’ head. “No, not glava, silly cat, plecho!” Terry scolded, putting the kitten back on the ground; this time, she jumped onto Terry’s shoulder. “Good kitty!”

Harry was surprised at how well behaved the kitten was, but instead of saying anything, lead the two back to Number Four.

“Aunt Petunia?” Harry called, once they were inside. “Is it ok if Terry stays over for a little bit? She said she’d help with my chores.”

Aunt Petunia was a tall, skinny woman with blonde hair and quite a lot of neck, and both Wisteria Petrovya and Temnaya Polnoch’ instantly disliked her. Similarly, Petunia Dursley took one look at the raggedly-dressed girl and her fluffball kitten, and instantly baulked.

“Who are you?”

“Wisteria Vasilisa Petrovya,” The tiny girl said, head held proudly. “Doctor Kazimir Petrovy’s daughter. He’s at work, and I wanted to spend time with Harry.”

Aunt Petunia’s mouth twitched into an almost sneer. “You’re Arabella Figg’s granddaughter?”

Terry nodded, brushing a wild curl behind one ear, blue eyes fierce. “I’m new to town, and I want to spend time with my friend.” She said coolly.

Petunia hesitated, but finally felt as though she owed it to Mrs Figg for watching her freak nephew all these years – besides, the chores would get done sooner, this way.

“Very well,”

A wry smirk curled across Terry’s face, and she quickly took off after Harry, and out into the backyard.

“What are you smiling about?” Harry whispered as they dove into the garden shed to retrieve the lawn mower.

“Because I won,” Terry smirked. “And she doesn’t even know it yet.”

Harry shook his head, confused, but decided to leave that for later. “Will Temnaya be ok with the lawnmower?”

“This one doesn’t have an engine, she’ll be fine,” Terry said with an eyeroll. “It’s positively archaic!” 

Harry felt that archaic was not the sort of word most nine-year-olds should know how to use, but since Terry was such a strange child as it was, he didn’t say anything. “If you’re sure. What do you want to do?” 

“What else is there to do?”

“Can you weed the garden?”

Terry flashed him a smirk and a wink, and said, “Leave it to me!” Truly, that September first was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


	2. Parseltongue for Russky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds a garden snake, Terry finds a student, and Temnaya thinks that humans are /weird/

** September 1st 2009 **

One of the curious things about gardening, is that every once in a while, a small garden snake will find itself into the geraniums.

Harry had finished with the mower and had joined Terry in the garden bed, and the first that Terry knew that there was a snake in the bed with them was when Harry had suddenly started hissing.

Looking up, Terry’s eyes had bugged in their sockets and she’d given a sharp gasp. Temnaya, who had previously been gambolling amongst the left over clippings, rushed over to protect her mistress and mistress’ new friend, spitting at the small reptile with all the ferociousness of a lamb with gastro.

“It’s fine, Temnaya,” Harry soothed. “He’s friendly.”

“It’s a snake,” Terry said slowly, wondering if her new friend hadn’t taken leave of his senses.

“Yeah, but it’s ok,” Harry told them. “He said he was just curious.”

Terry squinted at him, head cocked to one side. “Teach me?” She finally asked. “I’ll swap you, Russian for Parseltongue.”

“Parseltongue?”

“You know, snake language. I feel like it’s the kind of name that would catch.”

Harry felt that his friend wasn’t all there, but agreed to try and teach her how to talk to the snake.

 _Hello_ was swapped for _Srsh_ and _Zdravstvuyte, Mr Snake_ for _rrrsssh_ and _g- zmeya, green_ for _hrsh_ and _zelenyy_.

The snake, who was dubbed Zeke, thought that Terry’s attempts at Parseltongue were hilarious, and Terry found Harry’s attempts at Russian pitiful at best, but it made for a fun afternoon. Once they were finished in the garden and Zeke had gone on his way, Petunia had them both wash and peel potatoes, and then after that, she sent them on their way – it wouldn’t do for the neighbours to find out just how much housework Harry did.

Over the rest of the week, Terry and Harry continued to make fast friends. They would sit together in class, sneak into the library at break time, and walk home from school, and all the while, Terry was showing Harry the magic that was Fairy Tail, and attempting to teach him the language of her father’s country. After two weeks, Harry had managed to read all six of the Volumes that Terry had in her room, and she had even introduced him to _MangaPanda_ , a website that posted translations of the chapters weekly, which they would read at lunch time or after school at the town library. They agreed that Erza and Gray were their favourite characters – Terry loved their snark and prowess, Harry Gray’s ability to overcome his past and Erza’s pure awesomeness – and that the country of Fiore seemed really cool.

**_13 th of September 2009_ **

The two friends had fallen into something of a routine – go to school together, walk home together, go to Terry’s place to pick up Temnaya and for Terry to change out of her uniform, and then rush over to Number Four, where they would do Harry’s chores for the day, and then duck back to Number Ten to tidy up whatever messes Temnaya may have made that day, and have dinner. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon for Doctor Petrovy to come home and find his daughter and the neighbours’ nephew either sprawled on the living room floor doing their homework or lounging in the cubbyhouse in the backyard, always laughing over a manga volume with a bowl of fruit and sweets between them.

On the second Sunday of their friendship, Kazimir awoke late to find his daughter and her friend giggling in the kitchen over a pre-made bottle of pancakes, batter smeared over their faces and in some of the curls that had fallen out of Terry’s haphazard ponytail.

“Ssh!” Terry giggled – and wasn’t that a sound Kazimir hadn’t heard in a while. “You’ll wake Papochka!”

“Then stop getting batter everywhere!” Harry grinned back. “Look at Temnaya – she’s practically yellow!”

Indeed, the Kneazle kitten that Arabella had given Terry appeared to be doused in pancake batter, and was attempting to regally lick the mess from her black and grey fur.

“What on earth are you two doing?” Kazimir asked tiredly – he’d been pulling long shifts at the surgery, this fortnight.

“Papochka!” Terry exclaimed. “We didn’t mean to wake you!”

“Sorry Doctor Petrovya!” Harry added quickly.

Terry elbowed him. “It’s Petrovy, Petrovya is because I’m a girl.”

“Vasi, you know you’re not allowed to use the stove without an adult to supervise,” Kazimir scolded softly.

“I know,” His daughter said stiffly. “But Harry’s allowed to, and you’ve been really busy at work, so we wanted to make you something nice.”

Kazimir took in the two children – Harry, squirming in place and obviously expecting some type of punishment, and Terry, stiff and proud – and sighed. “You are too like your mother, tsvetok. Come, let’s clean you both up.”

In the process of cleaning the kitchen, Kazimir found that his daughter and her friend had also prepared orange juice – twice, Terry said, because the first batch had been knocked over by Temnaya, who had left sticky footprints all around the kitchen. There was also whipped cream in a can (which they had hidden from him in the vegetable drawer – oh, she was _so_ like Lilian!), and golden syrup, as well.

Much to the doctor’s surprise, though, Terry had taken to pointing things out to Harry in Russian, in an attempt to have someone other than her father and cat to speak the language with. Unfortunately, the children had a long way to go, as Harry constantly managed to butcher the words. Still, Kazimir had to admit a great deal of pride in his daughter for making such a fine friend, and for trying to make such a breakfast for him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Google Translate:
> 
>  
> 
> glava = head  
> Papochka = papa  
> plecho = shoulder  
> pozhaluysta = you're welcome  
> tsvetok = flower


	3. The Tale of Vasilisa the Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fairy tale of "Vasilisa the Beautiful", as best I was able to find it.  
> (Any mistakes are mine and the interwebs)

**_13 th of September 2009_ **

“Tell me more about Baba Yaga?” Harry asked once they were sprawled in Terry’s cubbyhouse, the kitchen cleaned, breakfast eaten and Temnaya bathed.

“Once upon a time, there was a merchant.” Terry started. “By his first wife, he had a single daughter, who was known as Vasilisa the beautiful. When she was eight years old, she lost her mother. On her deathbed, Vasilisa’s mother gave her a tiny wooden doll, and told her that if she was ever in need, then she should feed and water her doll, just a little, and it would help her. After her mother died, Vasilisa followed her mother’s instructions, and her doll comforted her.

“After a time, her father remarried, to a woman with two other daughters. The stepmother didn’t like Vasilisa, and so was cruel to her, making her do horrible tasks which, with help from her doll, she did. Whenever young men came asking for Vasilisa’s hand in marriage, her stepmother sent them all away, because it wasn’t proper for the littlest sister to marry before the bigger sisters. But none of the men wanted to marry the stepsisters.

“One day, the merchant had to go on a long journey. So his wife sold the house, and moved them all to a gloomy hut on the edge of a forest. Then, the stepmother set a task for each girl, and put out all the fires except for a single candle, which her older daughter then snuffed out. Vasilisa was then sent to Baba Yaga’s place to retrieve more light. The little doll told Vasilisa to go, and so she went. On their way, she passed three mysterious, lone riders. The first rode a white horse, and all of his clothes and tack were also white. The second was the same, but all in red, and the third was in black. The last rider passed Vasilisa just as she had made it to Baba Yaga’s house, and once he had ridden past, night fell.

“Baba Yaga’s house stood on big chicken legs, and had a fence made out of human bones all around it, and it wobbled and wailed around the clearing. Once night had fallen, all of the skulls around the house had lit up like lanterns. It was so frightening that Vasilisa couldn’t even move! So she was still at the house when Baba Yaga appeared in her mortar and pestle.”

“In her what?” Harry interrupted, laughing.

Terry’s lips twitched. “You know, the thing chemists and cooks use to crush up herbs and stuff?”

“But what about a broom?” Harry grinned.

“Baba Yaga isn’t like your kind of witch!” Terry said haughtily. “She doesn’t wear a hat, either. Now zip it and let me finish!

“Anyway, so Baba Yaga appears in her flying mortar and pestle, and she says something that Vasilisa can’t hear, but it makes the house squat down, and stop making so much noise. _“What are you doing here?”_ Baba askes Vasilisa.” Harry started laughing again over Terry’s ‘witch voice’. _“I came to fetch some light”_ , she says – oh, shut up, you! _Ahem. “I can do that for you, but first you must do me a boon.”_

“Nobody says do me a boon,” Harry snorts.

“Oh, would you stop interrupting!” Terry scolded, smacking him up the back of the head. “It’s a fairy tail! Anyway, so Baba Yaga tells Vasilisa that she must do the witch some favours, otherwise, Baba will gobble her up. First she had to clean the house and yard, then do Baba’s laundrey, and cook her a meal. Vasilisa also had to separate spoiled corn grains from good ones, and poppy seed from dirt, because somebody wicked had been fiddling with Baba’s supplies, or something. Anyway, Baba left in her mortar again, and Vasilisa despaired, because how was she supposed to do all of that in a single night?

 _"“Don’t worry,”_ said the doll, after Vasilisa had worked as hard as she could. _“I will do the work for you; you go and sleep.”_

“At dawn, noon, and night, each other of the horsemen rode passed – first white, then red, and the black came last, and behind him, came Baba Yaga. Once she had seen that everything had been done, just as she asked, Baba Yaga grumbled that there was nothing to complain about. So then she had three magic pairs of hands appear to squeeze the oil from the corn, and asked Vasilisa if she had any questions.

 _““Yes,”_ said Vasilisa. _“Who are those horsemen?”_ Baba said that the white horseman was her bright dawn, the red horseman was her red sun, and that the black horseman was her dark midnight. Before Vasilisa could ask about the bodiless hands, the dolls shook in her pocket, so she knew not to ask about it. Instead, she told Baba that she had no more questions, and in return, Baba asked, _“What is the cause of your success in my tasks?”_ Vasilisa said, _“My mother’s blessing”_ , and meant her doll, but Baba Yaga spat, and said, _“I don’t want nobody with any kind of blessing in my house! Take this, and go!””_

“Baba had taken up a skull, put it on a walking stick, and then filled it with coals, to provide light for her step-family. Once she returned, Vasilisa found out that no light had been lit, or able to enter, their hut, except for the skull-lamp. But once she got inside, the coals inside the skull burnt brightly, and burned the stepmother and stepsisters to ashes. _“Bury me where no one else will ever be hurt by me,” the skull told her.”_

“That’s a horrible story!” Harry said indignantly.

“No it’s not!” Terry replied hotly. “Afterwards, Vasilisa’s father comes back, and they move to the capital city, Moscow, where she learns to make cloth, and then she becomes so skilled, and so beautiful, that the Tsar himself comes to see her, and then they get married!”

Harry scrunched his nose up. “It’s like a really weird version of Cinderella.”

Terry shrugged. “It’s a Russian fairy tale – you should hear Babushka tell it. I’m not as good as she is.”

Harry shook his head. “I’ll take your word for it. Hey, have you finished the math sheets yet?”

Terry’s eyes widened comically. “Yebat’!”


	4. Let's make a guild!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terry wants to make a guild. Harry thinks they might as well learn magic whilst they're at it.

**_19 th September 2009_ **

“Let’s make our own guild!” Terry exclaimed, a week after the “Kitchen Incident”. “Just you, me, and Temnaya! We can do jobs for the neighbours to make money and sweets, and to keep fit and stuff!”

“What should we call it?” Harry asked with a grin. “Not Fairy Tail?”

“Cait Shelter, maybe?” Terry suggested. “Or, Serpent Tongue?”

“Baba Yaga?” Harry laughed. “That’s how we met, remember? And she’s helpful if you need a hand, but she won’t stand for bullies.”

“Yes!” Terry laughed back, clapping her hands. “That can be our creed! Always offer a helpful hand to those that need one, and do everything in your power to stand up for the little guy.”

“Perfect!” Harry grinned. “But, what’ll we do for the mark? We’re kids, we can’t get tattoos, and Aunt Petunia will freak out if she sees me drawing on myself.”

Terry tapped her chin. “I can make us vests to wear over our cloths – like Natsu’s, but with our mark on the breast and back.”

“We just need a design. A mortar and pestle? Or maybe a skull-lamp on a stick, like in _Vasilisa the Beautiful?”_

“That _would_ be ironic,” Terry murmured, with a wry smile. “What about a house on legs?” She pulled a scrap of paper and a pen from her satchel, and sketched her design: a triangular-rooved house with diamond windows for eyes, an open door with two chicken’s legs on either side. “See?”

“It’s perfect!” Harry exclaimed. He looked up from the drawing with a grin. “We’ll use your tree house as our Guildhall. You do the vests, and I’ll do our flyers. We can put your house number on them so people can contact us, and we’ll put them up by the store and the library. _The Baba Yaga Guild, No job too big or too small! Gardening, Dog walking, Car washing, and general chores. Weekends and after school.”_

“Perfect!” Terry agreed, flashing a victorious smile, and the Fairy Tail symbol.

 

* * *

 

 

Mrs Figg, predictably, was their first customer. She gave them a pound each for doing her grocery shopping for her, and had jam and scones and ginger ale waiting for their return. Their second was old Mr Hobs, at Number Nine Privet Drive, who had them mow his lawn and tidy up the back yard for three pounds each, as well as a bright yellow hair ribbon for Terry, which matched the guild marks stitched on the black “work vests” she had made them. Mrs Rhodes on Wisteria Way had them watch her five year old twins for a few hours, next, for two pounds fifty, as well as afternoon tea. Over the next few weeks, Terry received phone calls asking for the Baba Yaga Guild, and then she and Harry would do odd jobs around all of Little Winging.

Even though they were never paid more than ten pounds between them for a job, they built themselves a reputation as hard workers, and within a month had saved up enough money that they were able to buy their own copy of Volume Eight of Fairy Tail the next time Terry and her father went to London to visit her grandparents. It didn’t take long before Harry had a bright idea.

**_4 th November 2009_ **

“Hey, Terry?”

“Mm?”

“Have you ever… Have you ever done anything _weird_? Something that might only be described as… magic?”

Terry slowly looked up from the new _Naruto_ volume she’d been reading. “Where are you going with this?”

“I think that we can be a real Magician’s guild. I’ve done weird things before – made my hair grow back after a horrible haircut, teleported myself away from bullies, shrunk an ugly sweater so I wouldn’t have to wear it… Have you ever done stuff like that before?”

Terry sighed softly, then nodded. “I used to levitate sweets off the top shelf, when I was small. After Mum came down sick, I had an accident on the swings, and broke my arm – I fixed it, because I didn’t want her to worry.”

Harry held up Volume One. “‘The power to overcome reasoning is born from reasoning. Magic isn’t a miracle. When the ‘spirit’ flow through us, and the ‘spirit’ flow in nature connects, they will form an embodiment for the first time… Pouring your soul into whatever you do is the magic.’”

“You really want to do this?” Terry asked softly. Harry nodded. “Harry, there is magic in this world. You and me, we’re actually wizards.”

“Not yet,” Harry said firmly. “But we will be, once we learn our magic.”

“You aren’t listening.” Terry snapped. “My parents are both what are known as Squibs – people without magic born to magical families. But both of us are magical – your parents, James and Lily Potter, were magical. That’s why the Durseley’s hate magic as much as they do. They’re what the magical community call Muggles, non-magical people. But, their magic is different to what we’ve read in Fairy Tail, not as diverse, not as accepting.”

“What?!” Harry exclaimed, wide eyed. “You knew this the whole time?”

“It wasn’t hard.” She replied. “The Petrovy family are old blood, as were the Potters. Ded and your maternal grandfather, Fleamont, were actually good friends.”

Something twigged for Harry. “What do you mean by, not as accepting?”

Terry sneered. “If your parents are muggles, or if you’re born magicless, then a lot of people just don’t want to know you – and if you’re anything other than human? Well, forget it. My parents, my Gran, they weren’t allowed to go to school, just because they couldn’t use magic. It’s not as if every class at Hogwarts or Koldovstoretz needs it, anyway!”

“Hogwarts? Koldovstoretz?” Harry asked, bewildered.

“The British and Russian magic schools,” Terry answered.

“Right then.” Harry said firmly, taking a hold of Terry’s wrists. “That makes it easy for me. I couldn’t decide between Ice Make and Hadō, but if they’re like that, then my mind’s made up: I’ll use the magic that defeats all other magicks.”

“Yebat’?”

“We need to balance each other out, in this guild of ours. You said you wanted to be a doctor like your dad, so why not use Sky Magic? It’s both supportive and offensive magic, and I can be our neutraliser.”

Terry snorted. “You’ve put a lot of effort into this, haven’t you?” At Harry’s answering grin, she chuckled, shaking her head. “Fine, ok. Let’s do it. Operation _Learn Fioran Magic_ is a go!”


	5. Nadja Petrovya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Terry's BAMF cousin, Nadja Petrovya

**4 th November 2009**

Two hours later, the two Babas found themselves crammed in front of Dr Petrovy’s laptop, notebooks full of cramped handwriting and an empty bowl of popcorn between them.  Their first point of call had been to check out the wikia page on both Hadō and Ten no Metsuryū Mahou, as well as scanning back through their copies of Fairy Tail, searching for information.  After that, Terry had started taking down her father’s biology texts, and Harry had started googling how vibrations worked.  They had then swapped so that Terry could google more about air currents and the sky, and Harry could make them the popcorn snack.

 “I don’t know how well this will work.”  Terry said grimly.  “We’re both supposed to be Holder Types, not Castor Types.”

 “But we’ve both done magic without a wand or anything before,” Harry pointed out reasonably.  “Come on, you have to have faith in us!  We can do it!  Besides,” he picked up Volume One again.  “ _It takes a strong mind and focus_ , remember?  _Magic is the pouring out of one’s entire soul._ ”

 Terry worried at her lip.  “Once we go to school, we won’t be able to use our magic though.  We’ve got something called the Trace on us, so we can only use our magic on the Hogwarts grounds, or when we’re adults.”

 “ _One cannot progress in the way of magic by being mindful of the watchful eye from above_ , right?”  Harry grinned.

 Terry smirked back.  “We’ve got years, you’re right.  We’ll be fine.  Besides, if we’re lucky we won’t have to use our magic at all outside of school.”

 “When do we go?”  Harry asked curiously.

 “Once we’re eleven.  So we’ll go in separate years.”

 “Wait, what?”  Harry asked, snapping his head back up from his research.  “Aren’t we the same age?”

 Terry gave a dry smile.  “I’m a year younger than you, dummy.  So you’ll go in twenty-eleven, and I’ll go in twenty-twelve.”

 “But we’re the same grade!”  Harry protested.

 Terry rolled her eyes.  “I’m clever, so I was pushed up a grade.  But I’m only eight.  Come on, if Gray and Erza could figure out their magic when they were little, then so can we.  Let’s research!”

 “Aye sir!”  Harry laughed.

 The phone rang then, and with a groan Terry rescued it from underneath piles of textbooks, handing the laptop back to Harry.  “Baba Yaga Guild Hall, how may I help you?”

 Harry giggled at that, so she kicked him.

 “ _What’s this, Vasi?_ ”  A young woman’s voice came down the line.  “ _You’re sounding all professional!_ ”

 “Nadja!”  Terry exclaimed.  “ _Shut up,_ Harry _!_   Nadja, what are you calling for?”

 “ _Just wanted to_ _see_ _how my favourite cousin was going,_ ” Nadja teased. 

 “I’m your only cousin.”  Terry deadpanned.  “What did you really want?”

 “ _I heard a rumour that you and your friend are trying to learn self-defence.  I wanna know why._ ”

 “ _You know how to fight,_ ” Terry answered softly in Russian.  “ _And nobody likes me or Harry.  Is it so wrong for us to learn too?_ ”

 Nadja snorted on the other end of the line.  “ _Well,_ y _ou never do anything without good reasons.  I have some time off next week.  I can head over for a day and give you two some instructions?_ ”

 “Yes, please,” Terry said gratefully.  “It would really help.”

 Nadja snorted again.  “ _Right, I’ll see you two on Tuesday.  You’ll be free then, yeah?_ ”

 “Mm,” Terry nodded.  “We’ve been doing jobs around town, but I can keep us free then.  We’ll just have to double up on Monday and Wednesday.”

 “ _Listen to the little professional!_ ”  Nadja teased.  “ _What are you?_ ”

 “Guild Mages, like in _Fairy Tail_ ,” Terry said plainly.  “We’re the Baba Yaga Guild.”

 “ _…  You gonna be real mages?_ ”

 “That’s the plan.”

 “ _What magic you learning?_ ”

 “I’m looking at Sky Dragon magic.  Harry is looking at Wave Magic.”

 “ _… Is that the one that deflects other magic?_ ”

 “Mm,”

 “ _Hmf.  Well, I’ll see you later then._ ”

 “Do vstrechi, Nadja.”

 Harry was staring at her with wide eyes.  “What the hell, Terry!  I thought this was a secret!”

 “It is.”  She answered calmly.  “Nadja will keep our secret for us.”

 “But if she’s your cousin – !”

 “Not everyone is like Dudley, Harry.  Nadja is _cool_.”  Terry hesitated for a moment, before saying quietly, “She’s a Squib, but she’s always been kind to me and her brothers, even though we could use magic – she’s the one who introduced me and Mum to Fairy Tail.  She works for MI5.”

 Harry gaped at her.  “Your cousin is in the _secret service_?!  And you just told her we’re starting our own _Magic Guild_?!  Are you mad?”

 Terry scowled at him.  “Papochka must have told Dyadya, and he told Nadja.  She wanted to know if we wanted self-defence lessons – she’ll be here Tuesday.”

 Harry collapsed back onto the floor, and suddenly felt a lot of sympathy for Lucy Heartfilia.

 “What does she even _do_?”  Harry asked weakly.

 Terry shrugged, dragging the laptop back and going back to researching the chemical compositions of healthy and unhealthy air currents.  “She protects people, she flatters others, but mostly she lies.  She keeps the country safe from horrible people, and she keeps the muggles safe from wizards.”

 Harry felt that this was a very unsatisfactory answer, but didn’t really feel like asking for anything more on the subject, so he went back to looking over the printed sheets on vibrations and molecules and equations.

 

* * *

 

 

**_11 th November 2009_ **

****

Tuesday came upon them faster than Harry wanted it to, and slower than Terry expected, regardless of all of the extra jobs they had taken on to clear up as much of their afternoon as they could.  (This meant that Harry had taken all of Mrs Oggs’ and the Croake’s dogs out for a run on the town green, and left Terry and Temnaya to clean both Mr Forest’s and Miss Cameron’s backyards on their own).

 School had become something of a blur – Harry had never been a particularly stellar student, especially compared to Terry, but with their idea of learning magic, they had now taken to sponging up as much information as they could in Maths and Science, and had decided to take a _much_ more hands-on approach in PE.  Lunch hours were now spent putting further study in air currents and vibrations, much to the surprise of the librarian.

 Tuesday had them walking to the school gates in a blur of chemicals and mathematical equations, but these were quickly put away for later at the appearance of a short, buxom woman with the same wild curls and bright eyes as Terry.

 “Nadja!”

 “Vasi!”  Her cousin’ called cheerfully, scooping Terry up in a cuddle and spinning the small girl around.  “I swear, every time I see you, you’ve grown again!”

 Terry laughed brightly.  “It’s good to see you!  Here, this is my best friend, Harry Potter.”

 Nadja’s brows went up at that, but she still held out a hand for Harry to shake.  “Nice to meet you.  I’m Nadja Petrovya.”

 “It’s nice to meet you,” Harry replied quietly, slightly cowed.

 Nadja’s mouth quirked up at the corner.  “We’ll see how you feel in an hour.  C’mon, let’s get going – the last train back to London leaves at five-thirty, and I want to get as much training into you two before I go.  Baba Yagas!  Lead on!”

 “Aye sir!”  Harry and Terry gave the Fairy Tail salute, before running down the street towards Number Ten.  They were really making progress now!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do vstrechi - See ya


	6. Chapter Six: Self Defence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadja teaches them how to fall, and how to throw a punch

**_11_ ** **_th_ ** **_November 2009_ **

As soon as they had arrived at Number Ten, Nadja had set up her iPod and speakers, and started blasting a mix of British hits and Russian folk songs.

"First things first!" She told them cheerfully, after they'd both changed into loose "gym" clothes (Harry's had been bought with their Guild earnings that weekend with this in mind). "A little bit of stretching won't hurt. You two know this song, right?"

The opening credits of the _Nutbush_ started up, and Terry gave her an incredulous look.

"C'mon!" Nadja said cheerfully, already moving. "You're gonna hate me by the end of this anyway, may as well start with my music tastes."

Terry grumbled and Harry laughed, but they both joined in, legs kicking and arms clapping as necessary, with Nadja teasing them whenever they fell out of rhythm.

"What's the point of this?" Terry gasped during the instrumental.

"Your limbs are all loose now, yeah?" Nadja asked cheerfully. "You two are a couple of little scholars, I hear. Even if you're training your mind, you can't forget to train your body, too. From now on, I want you two to run a lap of your school oval every lunch time, and twice daily on the weekends, do you understand?"

"Yes, Nadja."

Once the song had finished and the two Babas were warmed up to Nadja's standards, she had them go and fetch their waterbottles from inside, have a quick drink, and then stand "at attention" before her once more.

"Lesson one! How to fall properly!"

"Seriously?!" Terry exclaimed. Harry stared.

 _I gotta feelin'~!_ sung the iPod.

Nadja nodded earnestly. "You're always going to fall. If you know how to fall _right_ , then ya won't get hurt, yeah?" The Babas nodded. "The most important thing to remember in all of this is where you're putting your limbs. Protect your head, though. Tuck your chin down, like this, see? If you're falling face down, but, turn your head to the side instead. Makes sense?"

"Yes, Nadja!"

"Good! Now, there's two ways you can do this; you can fall, or you can fall _and roll_. It depends on how you want your opponent to view you, or what kind of situation you're in. We'll start with falling flat, then work on rolling, ok?"

"Ok."

"When falling flat, remember that the more area you cover, the less impact your body will take on. Remember to protect your head, and turn as you fall, so that you take the impact on to your side. Keep your arms and legs slightly bent, like this, so that you don't take all of the force into the limbs themselves. Like this, see?" Nadja tipped herself over, twisting slightly and taking the force of the fall on her side. "You wanna stay loose," she continued, rolling upright. "If you're tense, then your body won't absorb the force of the fall. Breathing steadily should help. Now, I'll demonstrate once more, and then it'll be your turns, ok?"

Both Babas nodded, and watched closely as Nadja fell once more, loose-limbed, twisting slightly to take the fall on her sides.

"Reckon ya got it?"

"Yes Nadja!"

"Good. Vasi, you first."

Terry stepped forward and tipped herself over, but tensed up at the last moment, landing awkwardly on her arms and thighs. "Ow…"

"What did you expect?" Nadja scolded gently, helping her up. "Anyway, what does she need to work on, Harry?"

"Not tensing up?" He tried hesitatingly.

"Good!" Nadja cheered. "Your turn!"

Harry drew in a steadying breath, tipped forward and twisted just enough to absorb the impact, breathing out and in relatively evenly.

"Well done!" Nadja cheered. "You've done this before?"

"Once or twice," Harry said dryly, before remembering that Nadja was a _spy_ , and he'd been _intimidated_ not even five minutes ago!

She cackled, and ruffled his hair. "Then you two can practice together afterwards, ok?"

"Of course we will!" Terry said indignantly. "We're a guild!"

Nadja gave her a sharp smile. "Good. I want you both to fall flat for me twice more, ok? Let's go, Vasi."

It didn't take much longer before even Terry had the hang of falling 'flat', so Nadja started to teach them how to add the roll into the movement, chins steadily tucked. With only another half hour before she had to catch the train back to London, Nadja decided to teach them some other, supplementary moves, such as stamping the instep of a captor's foot, and how to break a hold.

* * *

"We didn't learn any punching or anything," Terry said despondently, when they were walking Nadja back to the train station.

Nadja side-eyed her. "Why d'ya wanna?"

Terry's eyes half slid towards Harry, then back towards her cousin. "What if someone … _bad_ … comes after us?"

Harry snorted. "We're not going to get _mugged_ in Little Whinging, Terry!"

"What about in London?" She retorted, poking her tongue out.

"What's your Guild Creed?" Nadja interrupted, turning and leaning against the station wall with her arms crossed over her chest. "I assume you've got one."

"Yeah," Nadja answered softly. "To always offer a helpful hand to those that need one."

"And to do everything in your power to stand up for the little guy." Harry finished.

Nadja studied them both then, face blank, before she finally sighed, and pushed a tumble of wild curls back and away from her face. "Ok. I'm only going to show you this for self defence. If I here that you've been using this to get back at bullies, or something, I won't have anything to do with either of you, am I clear?"

"Aye sir!" The two said seriously.

One side of Nadja's mouth curled up in a half-smile . "Right. Here, hold your fists like this, with the thumb on the outside, tucked between the knuckles of the first two fingers. If your thumb is still inside your fist when you punch, it _will_ break, d'ya understand?"

"Yes!"

"Keep your chin tucked out of the way, like this. When you punch, you wanna put effort behind it, but you wanna be loose, too, like this." Nadja bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, swaying from side to side, chin tucked and fists up. "If you're going for a boxing sort of angle, a quick one-two with the non-dominant hand," her right fist did two quick phantom jabs," followed by a punch with the strength of your shoulder, like _this_ ," a vicious left hook, "should down most foes. You two try."

Both mimicked her form, dancing lightly from one foot to the other, chins down and fists up. Nadja moved in front of Harry first, and said, "Hit me," both hands held up loosely, palms open.

" _What?!_ " Harry spluttered.

"Oh my gods, Harry, just hit me!" Nadja scolded, spooking the boy into a quick one-two. She gave him a bright grin. "Well done! Now remember, in a real case of self-defence, they won't be standing quite so still for you. _Always_ keep an eye on your opponent, I _can't_ stress this enough, do you both understand?"

"Yeah, Nadja."

"Good. Generally aim for a body shot, either the liver or just under the heart, if you want to knock them down and make a getaway. Elsewise, aim for the throat, because if they see it coming, they'll drop their chin into your trajectory, and you can knock 'em out. Only aim for the nose if you wanna piss someone off, okay?"

"Roger!"

"Good. Vasi?"

Nadja moved in front of her cousin, hands held open at chest height. Terry drew in a quick breath, before loosing two quick, powerful shots with her right hand, and following up with an equally powerful left hook.

Nadja grinned brightly at both of them, just as the train was pulling in. "You two did really well! Next time I come out here, I'll show you some more moves, but until then, practice punching into each others' fists, and do those laps. Once you're comfortable doing just the one lap a day, and you can do it _quickly_ , add an extra lap, and keep this up until I see you next. Ok?"

Both Babas nodded, so Nadja hefted her bag higher on her shoulder, ruffled Harry's hair, and gave Terry a quick hug. "Tell Dyadya I said hello, ok, Vasi? And you two keep in touch!"

"Ok! Safe travels, Nadja! Bye bye!"


	7. Chapter Seven: Squibs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry learn a little more about Squibs, and Nadja remembers that Terry never gives less than 110%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for such a long wait everybody! The curse that is 2016. Anyway, I hope everybody had a good holidays, and has a very happy New Year!   
> Feedback is, as always, greatly appreciated

**_12 th November 2009_ **

“Say, Terry?”  Harry asked on the trip to school the next day.

 “Yeah?”  She asked distractedly, playing out a cat’s cradle with some string she’d found in her bag.

 “Are Squibs really common then?”

 Terry looked up quickly, fingers twisting into a knot and feet missing a step.  “What?  No, not unless you’re a Petrovy.”

 “Huh?”

 “Our family is special.  At least one child per generation is a Squib; this generation, it’s Nadja.  Papochka and two of his cousins were the last generation’s, and in the one before that, it was Ded’s sister, but both their mother and uncle, in the one before that.”

 “Do their kids always become magical?”

 “Not usually.  Gran and Mum were both without magic, but of Ded’s sister’s kids – she had five – only two were Squibs.  It isn’t uncommon for magic to only skip a generation, in the Petrovy family.  Nobody knows why, and nobody else is like this.  Usually, it takes a number of generations before the magic comes back into a Squib’s bloodline, and by then, they’re technically called Muggleborns.”

 “Huh,” Harry mused, kicking at a pebble on the pavement. 

 It was quiet for a while longer, before Terry asked, “Um, why?”

 “Just curious,” Harry shrugged.

 Terry rolled her eyes at him.  “You weirdo.”

 “It’s not everyday someone finds out they’re a wizard, you know!”  He said defensively.  “I wanna find out as much as I can before we go!”

 She laughed at him.  “We’ve got years, remember?  Now, come on!  I want to see how much research we can get in before it’s time for class!  I think we _almost_ had an understanding, yesterday!”

 

* * *

 

  ** _15 th November 2009_**

Sometimes, Nadja Petrovya was glad that she still lived with her parents.  Work could never follow her home (her mother might have agreed to live in Muggle London, but that didn’t mean the neighbours had to know that they were _there_ ), and after spending most of today arguing with international connections, that is _just_ what she needed. 

 However, such times were rare.  When it came to matters regarding the family, she _particularly_ regretted her decision not to move in with any of her university friends when she still had the chance.

 “Your Uncle Kazimir is on the phelly-tone for you, darling,” Her mother said, as soon as she’d returned from work.

 Nadja raised her eyebrows.  “He wha’?”

 Leto Petrovya – nee Greengrass – put her hands on her hips and gave her only daughter a truly impressive _look_.  “Dione Nadja Petrovya, don’t you take that tone with your mother!”

 Nadja raised her hands.  “Ok, ok.  What does he want?”

 Leto shrugged her shoulders delicately, and flicked her wand to right the house elf, Tilly, who had tripped under the weight of the laundry basket.  “Something about a nutbush?  What on earth did you get up to when you were visiting, darling?”

 Now Nadja was _really_ confused.  “Nothing, I just spent some time with Vasi and her friend.  Is he on the phone still?”

 Leto wrinkled her nose.  “Yes, I believe he’s talking with your brother.”

 “Thanks,” Nadja said, kicking her boots off by the front door and calling out, “Oi, Kon!”

 “Kitchen!”

 Where Nadja favoured their father, with blue eyes and wild dark curls, Konstantin Petrovy took after their blonde, green-eyed mother.  Nadja, as a squib, had decided to take a job in looking after the country, and making sure that the mundane world never found out about the magical one.  Her brother (eighteen, fresh out of Ravenclaw, working for Gringots as a Curse Breaker) felt that a more magical, traditional approach better fit someone of their bloodline.

 “Yeah, Dyadya, here’s Nadja now, see ya!”  The cordless phone was chucked, and Nadja fumbled the catch in surprise.  “He’s _your_ problem now!”  Konstantin hissed, flouncing from the room.  Nadja blinked after him, before slowly raising the phone to her ear.

 “Heya, Dyadya, how’s it going?”  She tried.

 “ _Nadja_ ,” Kazimir’s voice was firm.  “ _What on earth did you do to my daughter_?”

 “… Nothing?” 

 “ _Now, dear girl, I didn’t mind so much when you introduced Lilian and Vasi to that – that manga, because it was good for them, you know, it got their minds off of the cancer, for a little while, but really, whatever bee you’ve put up her bonnet this time, I have to intervene!_ ”

 Under normal circumstances, Uncle Kazimir was her favourite – Aunt Metis, Uncle Ophion and Uncle Helios were all _so_ stiff, full of pure-blood supremacy, and a particular disgust for squibs.  The only reason she figured that they actually put up with _her_ was because of the Curse of House Petrovy – and usually she was his favourite (only) niece, but apparently today just wasn’t supposed to be normal.

 “Dyadya, _what_ are you talking about?!”

 A harsh sigh.  “ _I will always support Vasi.  I put up with the manga, because she’s young, and after her mother, she needed something to take her mind off of things, and when she decided to become friends with_ Harry Potter _, of all people, I went, ok, yes, I can deal with that, too, and making a guild, well, that’s just children enjoying each other’s company, really, and Lord knows they both need it, but honestly!  It was one thing when they decided to teach themselves_ magic out of a manga _, because I didn’t think they could pull it off, and their grades were skyrocketing, but_ self-defence, Nadja, really?!”

 “It’s a dangerous world out there!”

 “ _But did you have to use_ The Nutbush _as a teaching method?!_ ”

 There were a few seconds silence, before Nadja pulled herself together enough to ask, “What?”

 “ _Every day since you’ve left, those two will dance to that ridiculous song_ in my living room at five-thirty in the morning _, before going for a run to the school, around the oval and back.  Afterwards, Harry goes home, and then they race each other to school.  Once they get there, they throw themselves into their schoolwork – I’ve had teachers calling me to say that they spend all of the lunchbreak in the library, and if they get kicked out, then they race each other up and down every single item in the playground, and practice tumbles and cartwheels down the side of the oval.  Once they get home, they go off and do their jobs as the Baba Yagas, or they do whatever homework they haven’t already finished at school.  And then they play that_ stupid _song again, and practice falling over and punching!  Nadja!”_

 “Ohhh...  Oops?”

 “Oops?!”

 “I didn’t think they’d take it so seriously!”

 “ _Nadja, when have you_ not _known Vasi to throw a hundred percent into any task?_ ”

 “Ok, when you put it that way – !”

 “ _When can you next come back out?_ ”  Her uncle groaned.

 Nadja bit her lip.  “I’m in the middle of something at work… Is she there now?”

 “ _No, she went over to have dinner with Harry and his family – she’s taken to tutoring his cousin so that his aunt and uncle will put up with her_.”

 “Sorry, what?”

 “ _They don’t like magic, or Harry, from what I’ve been able to find out_ ,” Kazimir said in a soft voice.  “ _They don’t know that Vasi’s magical, and the fact that she’s Arabella’s granddaughter and my daughter stands her well._ ”

 Nadja _hated_ that kind of prejudice – her brother’s friends who sneered at her for not having magic, other squibs because she was surrounded by it, the few muggle politicians who ended up finding out because _Fudge was a f***ing idiot_ until someone could fix their memories…  She really hated that kind of mentality.  Maybe she _should_ try and see Vasi and Harry sooner…

 “ _Nadja_?”

 “Yeah, Dyadya, still here.  Hey, can ya take down a message for me?  I’ll try and send ya an email for them tomorrow, too, if I can.”

 “ _Whenever you’re ready, Nadja_.”

 

* * *

 

“ _All work and no play makes Gray a dull boy – but all play and no work makes Nab an unfulfilled character_.  _Find a balance, you B-A-K-A_.”  Terry read the memo when she returned home from Number Four, Temnaya on her heels.  “What’s this for, Papochka?”

 “Your teachers and I are concerned, tsvetok.  You are putting too much of yourself into this Mage idea.”  Her father said gently.

 Terry rubbed the back of her head, embarrassed.  “But, Papochka, we really want this.  _Magic is the pouring out of one’s entire soul_ , you know.”

 He crouched down, and ruffled her already-wild curls.  “Magic can be found in the little things too, Vasi.  In a sun shower, in love, in a new life… Your mother and I were convinced we had made magic, when we finally held you in our arms.”

 Terry squirmed.  “I know that!  A clever knot, a pretty picture, a wild flower…  You’ve always taught me these things.  I know this.”

 “Then why is the Fairy Tail magic so important to you and Harry?”

 Terry was quiet for a long time, but Kazimir knew his daughter, and so let her think out her answer.

 “We don’t like bullies.  Hadō – the one that Harry wants to learn – is the magic that defeats all other magicks.  When I told him what people are like to you and Mum, and Gran, and Nadja…  So he picked it to get back at them.  And, in case there’s any Dark wizards left, at least he’ll be able to negate their magic.  But, the one I’m looking at is Sky Magic – _healing_ magic.  I don’t want anyone else to hurt like Mum hurt, and I want to be able to protect our guild, too.  So that’s why I’m learning the magic of the Sky Dragon.”

 Nadja had told her once, when she was still very small, that sometimes it was best to lie by omission.  Papochka didn’t need to know that the technical term for her soon-to-be magic was _Dragon Slayer_.

 “And, it’s also only a matter of time before Magic gets out to the muggles, don’t you think?”  She added in a quiet voice.  “At least this way, there’s already people who are in a position to take requests, and handle problems, like Nadja does.”  Papochka’s eye _twitched_.  “And besides, even if we can’t teach ourselves this magic, we’re having fun whilst we’re doing it.  Nobody likes me because I’m new, and nobody likes Harry because he’s Harry, which is stupid, so it’s not like we’re hurting anyone.  Right?”

 And then she was looking at him with the biggest puppy eyes she could manage without faking, lips trembling and water at the corners of her eyes, and Terry knew that she had won this round.  Her father gathered her into a tight hug, and told her that _no, they weren’t hurting anyone,_ and _weren’t they clever, doing all of that when they’re so young_.  Eventually, he pulled back, kissed her forehead and ruffled her hair again.

 “It’s late,” He finally said, voice soft.  “Why don’t you go to bed.  You and Harry can talk about cutting back some of your training in the morning.  And, Vasi?”  He called out, just as she was at the top of the stairs.

 “Yeah?”  She called back, cuddling Temnaya.

 “Do your old man a favour.  Please, no more _Nutbush City Limits_ , ok?”

 “Yes, Papochka.  Good night!”


	8. Behold Baba Yaga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terry and Harry get in touch with their Fairy Tail heritage, and use their magic in a fight

When Wisteria Petrovya had joined the student roll, the headmistress had informed the teaching body of her coming arrival.  Normally, having such a clever child coming to their school would have been cause for vigilance on the teachers’ part, to make sure that the child would not be bullied for being clever, or lord it over the other children because they had been advanced a grade.

 That was not the case of Miss Petrovya.

 The staff all knew that the girl had moved because she had lost her mother to cancer, and all agreed that eight was simply too young to have to have undergone such a terrible thing.  Terry had been watched for signs of depression, anxiety, of bullying, for crying in the toilets.  (Wisteria Vasilisa Petrovya was the type of child to have _far_ too much pride for crying in public, but no one had told the teachers that).  Therefore, all of the staff had become aware of the fact that Terry had made fast friends with _Harry Potter_ on the first day of school.

 Harry Potter was an enigma.  When he chose to apply himself during exams or quizzes, the boy didn’t have a half-bad mind, but his assignments were often only half done, his work sloppy at best.  His clothes were usually four sizes too big (when his aunt-and-guardian had been questioned on the matter previously, she had tittered and said that that was his style, and she couldn’t convince the dear thing to change at all), his hair a wild mess that stuck up in every direction.  None of the other children would play with him – in fact, most actively _avoided_ him – and so the staff were of the impression of a sloppy, lazy, standoffish brat.

 The friendship between Terry and Harry was about as normal as it was possible for two children of their age to be, which had then begged the question of _how did it work?_   Terry’s previous school had called her a proud, intense, intelligent child, who had not made friends easily.  So how did she become so close with Harry Potter?!  Within the first week of term, the two had become practically inseparable, often sitting in the library and reading comics together, _giggling_.   Within three weeks, they had founded their “guild”, and had taken to doing chores for the elderly or full-time-employed around Little Whinging.  By the half term at the end of October, the two had earnt enough that Harry Potter’s style of too-baggy clothing had been replaced with carefully picked out second-hand clothes from the charity shop; faded jeans or cargos and long-sleeved shirts under plain tees.

 During the half-term study classes (Mr and Mrs Dursley had been informed that Dudley _had_ to attend, and so Harry and Terry had tagged along), the two had mostly spent their time researching together in the library, as Harry’s grades had shot up to a decent, averaging mark over the term, and by now the teachers had cottoned on that he was only at study because of his cousin, and Terry was only there because of Harry. 

 (The headmistress may or may not have hired Terry to tutor Dudley on the side, but the Baba’s had a policy of not talking about their jobs or clients to non-Guild members.)

 There had been no sign or warning of the sudden intellectual frenzy that would overcome the Babas halfway through the first week after half term.  The only hint of the increase in their physical fitness had been the appearance of some close relative of Terry’s at the start of the second week after half-term.  Whilst the Science, Maths and PE teachers had little to complain about, following the almost fanatical effort that the Babas had been putting into their classes, many of the other teachers (Miss Cameron, the librarian, included) felt that it wasn’t exactly healthy, for an eight and nine year old to be spending so much time researching and working out.

 An intervention was arranged with Doctor Petrovy; the next day found the two Babas spending their breaks out underneath a tree by the playground, _meditating_!!  In the days following, the two friends put a little more effort into their neglected subjects, and a little less into their previous obsessions, much to the staff’s relief.  Whilst they were aware that the Babas continued with their activities after school – Jessa Cameron had the Babas do her garden for her every Saturday evening for five pounds each, and had caught them practicing falls or cartwheels on more than one occasion – so long as it wasn’t at the obsessive levels of the week prior, the staff chose to believe that ignorance was bliss.

 

* * *

**_16 th November 2009_ **

**_(Monday)_ **

When Harry arrived at Number Ten to start his early morning training with Terry, he was surprised to find her and Temnaya Polnoch’ waiting for him on the front step, rather than out the back in the cubbyhouse.

“We need to talk,” Terry said casually, standing and making her way towards the backyard.

“Is something wrong?”  Harry asked, once they were seated inside the cubby.

Terry puffed at a curl that was hanging in front of her face.  “Mm.  Apparently, everyone is worried about how much we’re putting into the Guild and our magic.  Also, Papochka doesn’t like the Nutbush.”

Harry rubbed at the back of his head.  “We’ve been waking him up really early, too, haven’t we?  Your poor Dad – maybe we should stop the morning training?”

“Nah,” Terry said carelessly.  “We’ll just change it.  I found an old yoga book of Mum’s last night once Papochka went to sleep, we can start to learn those instead, and then go for a run.”

Despite his best efforts, Harry found himself smiling at his friend.  “You don’t know when to stop, huh?”

Terry’s answering smile was as sharp as a wolf’s, all teeth.  “Course not, I’m Terry Petrovya!”

 “So morning training can be yoga and meditating, at school we’ll practice on the gyms and research, and in the afternoon we’ll try and cut back on some of our jobs.  Do you think that’ll cheer your Dad up?”

Terry laughed and flashed him the Fairy Tail sign.  “Sounds like a plan!”

* * *

**_20 th November 2009_ **

**_(Friday)_ **

In the days since the Babas had started to incorporate meditation and controlled breathing into their routine, the two had come to feel as though they were close to a breakthrough.  Indeed, the two had often felt before as though their magic was _right there_ , only just out of their reach, and the meditation and breathing exercises had only strengthened that impression.  Just that morning, Terry had succeeded in “eating” air for the first time, and Harry had accidentally shattered a glass cup during afternoon tea with Mrs Figg the day before, trying to explain their ideas about their new magic.  The two were currently riding a scholarly high, fully expecting to make even further progress over the weekend.

Of course, that was when Dudley and his cronies had ambushed them after school.  After a term and a bit of inaction (and three weeks of tutoring), Dudley’s fear of Terry’s Russian Witch had finally disappeared enough that he had returned for his favourite prey.

“Oi, Potter, Petrovya!”  One boy called out, as the group of five circled in and around the two smaller children.

“Whaddya want, Dursley?”  Terry sneered, puffing up much like Temnaya did when confronted by snakes in the gardens they cleared.

“You two have been weird for weeks!”  Piers Polkis, a small, rat-faced boy, exclaimed.  “Talkin’ in tongues, ‘n’ stuff!”

“Always runnin’ ‘n’ jumpin’ around,” Added the thick-set Justin.

“People _pay_ you, too,” Louis said slyly.  “Lots of it.  You worked for Cameron last week, I heard she gave ya _ten pounds_.”

“We’re a guild,” Harry said slowly.  “We do odd jobs for money, so that we can get the stuff we want, like clothes and food and books.”

“It’s not as if your parents do a proper job of looking after him!”  Terry spat at Dudley from Harry’s right, ignoring the sharp elbow he sent into her ribs.

“’E’s got a roof over ‘is head, ain’t he?”  Somebody else piped up.  “He gets food ‘n’ stuff!”

Since deciding that they would learn Fioran Magic, and that hers would be Metsuryū no Mahou, Terry had been practicing her dragon sounds (because why not; she was eight).  So when she let out a fierce little growl at such a statement, all of Dudley’s gang took a few “ _discreet_ ” steps back.

“Let it go!”  Harry hissed at her, hand tight around Terry’s elbow.  “Let’s just get to your place, we’re really close to our breakthrough.”

“All this about _breakthroughs_!”  Louis piped up again.  “It’s all you’ve been talking about all week!”

“It’s none of your business!”  Terry snapped, panic fluttering at the edges of her rib cage.  Konstantin and his brother Darius had told her enough horror stories as a baby, about what happened when Muggles found out about magic, for her to not be afraid now.

“We’re trying to get a scholarship to a good high school!”  Harry suddenly exclaimed, shocking everybody.  “If we get scholarships,” he said in the sudden quiet, “Then nobody has to worry so much about paying for us.  That would make Uncle Vernon happy, wouldn’t it?”

Dudley’s piggy little eyes flashed from one Baba to the other.  It _did_ sound like something that would make Vernon’s day, but on the other hand, when had Harry ever cared about such things before?

“He’s right,” Terry admitted grudgingly, for all the world as if she revealing a great secret.  “We wanted to go to this really good school in Bulgaria, with my distant cousins – that’s why I’ve been teaching it to him, and why we study so hard.”  Terry was confident that the bullies couldn’t tell the difference between Russian and Bulgarian.

 Dudley’s eyes narrowed.  “You wouldn’t be here?”  He asked suspiciously.

 “Of course not, you idiot!”  Terry snapped.

 “Well then!”  Justin said, eyes gleeful.  “We’d better make sure of that, yeah?”

 The punch blindsided Terry, snapping her head to the side as Luis’ small fist connected with her jaw.  Dazed, she heard Harry call for her, only to yelp when Dudley threw a punch into his stomach.  The gang then converged upon them, kicking them until the Babas were both curled up on the ground, heads tucked beneath arms, and fury and fear curling in their tummies.

 “ _Freaks!  Freaks!_ ”  The boys taunted, laughing at the small noises that were coming from Harry and Terry.

 However, this wasn’t like the other times that Dudley had beaten on his cousin.  This time, Harry knew that he had magic.  This time, Harry had some idea of how to use it.  And this time, Harry had someone worth fighting for, and protecting.

  _There are seven colours in the spectrum_ , Harry thought distantly, collecting his magic close to his chest.  _And seven musical notes on the scale.  Blue and D are both vibrating as_ colour _and_ sound _at five hundred and eighty-seven hertz.  But if it vibrates fast enough, the frequency becomes_ light _.  Sound to light is simply raising the frequency by forty octaves.  When I broke Mrs Figgs’ cup, I had caused a vibration at ten kilohertz, or ten thousand hertz; that’s enough of a frequency to make a person dizzy, which gives_ us _enough time to fight back or run away!_

“Hadō!”  Harry grunted, holding one hand away from his head, and releasing a blast of vibration, straight into the faces of Piers Polkiss and Justin Hubbard.

 With muffled squawks, the two boys fell back from Harry, staggering around dizzily.  That just left Dudley on Harry, and Louis and Martin on Terry.  With Dudley temporarily distracted by the other two boys, Harry curled both legs up even tighter to his chest, and then launched both into his cousin’s shins, bringing the larger boy crashing down.  At the same time, Terry sucked in a great mouthful of air, swallowed, and converted it into magical power (which felt rather like sculling ten shots of coffee, she imagined).  Pulling her power to the surface of her consciousness had always felt like pulling hot toffee in the past, but now it sprung up like a small well in her chest, ready and eager to be used.

 “ _Tenryū no Yokugeki!_ ”  Terry snarled, her arms swinging up and over, flinging her two tormentors across the street.  Turning to face the three that Harry had temporarily incapacitated, Terry gathered her magic to her chest, directed it to her feet, and swung one around in a vicious kick, “ _Tenryū no kagizume!_ ”

 Even with a few metres distance between them, her _talon_ attack still sent Piers, Justin and even the larger Dudley over the street, landing in a pile with Martin and Louis.

 “ _That_ is the power of Baba Yaga!”  Terry snapped at them, pulling Harry up by the elbow, and beating a hasty retreat before the five boys could regain their senses.

 

 


	9. 9. Hermione Granger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing everybody's favourite bibliophile! Also, the cat is sassy. Part one of my (late) birthday update!

_Nadja Petrovya was working an angle at a bar in Manchester when her phone vibrated with a text from her uncle, Kazimir.  The message was only three words long, but it was obvious that the message had come, not from her uncle, but from the two Babas._

**We’ve done it!**

_Nadja allowed herself a moment to smile, before tucking her phone back into her pocket and smoothing her face into a calm mask, approaching her current assignment._

_“Now Mr Diggle,” Nadja said as she slipped into the opposite seat.  “From the top, please explain to me, why did you give pocket-sized shooting stars to those Muggles?”_

 

****

**_20 th November 2009_ **

**_(Friday)_ **

“Well,” Harry said ten minutes later, once the two had locked themselves in the bathroom of Number Ten, Privet Drive, and started to tidy themselves up after their skirmish.  “That could have gone worse.”

 “It could have gone _better_ , too.”  Terry growled from her spot in front of the bathroom sink, rinsing blood from her mouth, and eyeing her canines.  “Do these look weird to you?”

 Harry pulled his impromptu ice pack (ice cubes wrapped in a terrycloth) away from his split eyebrow, and poked at one experimentally.  To both children’s immense shock, the tooth fell out with a small _plink!_ as it hit the ceramic sink.  Before Terry could do much more than squeak in surprise, the tooth had grown back – sharper than a regular canine, pointed and rather like a dragon’s fang.

 “Cool!”  Harry exclaimed.  “Do the other ones!” 

 A few wiggles later, and Terry had a matching set of draconian canines, and four teeth for the Tooth Fairy.

 “You’re a real Dragon Slayer now, Terry!”  Harry said cheerfully. 

 Terry was still poking at her new teeth worriedly.  “How do you think Papochka’s gonna take it?”

 Harry lost some of his cheer, suddenly seeing Terry’s point.  “Oh.  Um, well… on the bright side, we’ve made progress with our magic!  And we stood up for ourselves against a gang of bullies!  But, uh…  Maybe he won’t notice?”

 Terry turned away from the mirror to cut Harry a truly impressive deadpan.  “Yeah, there’s no way he’s going to miss my brand new _fangs_ , Harry, thanks for that.  Temnaya, what do you think?”

 The question was a rhetorical one that Terry put out there as she had a drink of water.

  _< You’re screwed>_

“Shut up, Harry, you aren’t helpful.”

 “That wasn’t me!”

 Both Babas froze, and turned to stare at Temnaya Polnoch’ – who was doing a marvellous impression of the cat that ate the canary.

 “That was you?!”  They both shouted.

  _< You two aren’t the only ones who decided to learn magic>_ Temnaya said proudly.  _< I taught myself Warren’s magic, _Telepathy _.  Now I’m a guild member, as well. >_

“You were planning this the whole time, weren’t you, clever cat?”  Terry asked, a smile twitching at the corners of her still-sore mouth.

 Temnaya lifted her head with a proud sniff.  _< Of course.>_

 Harry laughed, scratching Temnaya behind the ears.  “Oh, you are a clever cat!  We don’t have to worry about not being able to pass on messages anymore!”

 Temnaya pulled back from her (well deserved) scratches, and raised a paw.  < _Stop – I’m still working on distance.  Anything more than ten metres away is very difficult. >_

 “That’s ok,” Terry said soothingly.  “We’ve all got a long way to go before we’re _proper_ guild wizards.  Harry’s _Hadō_ was only strong enough to make Piers and Justin very dizzy, and my _Wing Slash_ and _Talon_ were only strong enough to kick the boys across a back alley.  Practice makes perfect, right?”

 “Aye!”

  _< Aye!>_

 Terry grinned at her guildmates.  “We’ve got this in the bag!  We’re Baba Yaga!”

 

* * *

 

To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Kazimir Petrovy was _less than impressed_ to find out that the two Babas had gotten into a fist fight, and that Terry’s teeth had fallen out and been replaced with those of a dragon’s.  Terry was promptly grounded for a week, and had to call up all of her clients to inform them that she was unable to complete her tasks until the twenty-seventh.  (Harry, upon returning to Number Four, was given a belting by Uncle Vernon and sent to his cupboard without any food for the rest of the weekend, for getting into a fight with precious Duddy-kins.  Temnaya Polnoch’ had been waltzing from one yard to the other to pass messages between her guild mates, so Terry had had to put out a generic message saying that _both_ Babas were unable to work that week)

 With the exception of school, the Babas were kept under house arrest until the following weekend – on Saturday the twenty-eighth, Terry caught the train to London with her father to visit the dentists, and Harry was allowed to resume his jobs (mostly because so many of the townsfolk had been asking after the Babas, and Aunt Petunia was terrified somebody would ask just the wrong question).

 Usually when Terry visited London, it was to go and see her paternal grandparents, Lyosha and Elizaveta Petrovy, at their nursing home to receive further education as an heir to House Petrovy.  Thankfully, this trip was solely so Kazimir could get a professional opinion on her teeth.

 The family-friendly dentists that they were going to were a dark-skinned couple, Doctors Granger and Granger, and unfortunately for Terry, Saturdays were their busy days.  I say _unfortunate for Terry_ , because our poor Dragon Slayer had developed a particularly keen sense of hearing and smell over the last week, and all of the new scents and sounds were driving her crazy!  Thankfully, Kazimir had taken pity on her, giving her earbuds and steering her towards a back corner of the facility, where the only other occupant was a girl of about Terry’s own age, reading Roald Dahl’s _Matilda_.

 Terry and Kazimir had settled themselves, and Terry had pulled Volume Eight out of her bag to begin rereading, when she caught a whiff of saltwater, and realised that the other girl was using her book and her wild bushy hair to hide the fact that she was crying.

 Stealing her breath and thinking, _be like Wendy!_ , Terry coughed awkwardly, and said, “Um, are you ok?”

 The dark-skinned girl didn’t seem to hear her at first, so Terry coughed a little louder and repeated her question; the other girl’s head jerked up, shocked.

 “Are – are you talking to me?”

 Terry was seriously reconsidering her life choices.  “You’re the only other person I could be.”

 “Oh.”  The girl blinked owlishly at Terry.

 “Soo, are you ok?”  Terry finally asked a third time.

 “Oh!  Y-yes, I suppose.”

 Terry gave her a deadpan, before thrusting forward her right hand.  “Terry Petrovya.”

 “Hermione!”  The girl said, startled.  “Hermione Granger.”

 “Well, Hermione, you’re a horrible liar, did you know that?”  Terry said mock-cheerfully.

 Hermione bristled.  “I am not!”

 Terry quirked an eyebrow.  “Look, I’ve read _Matilda_ , and there really isn’t anything in it to cry over.”

 Hermione’s hands flashed to her cheeks, and she stared down at them in surprise.

 Terry scooted over a couple of seats until she and Hermione were shoulder-to-shoulder, digging around in her bag until she pulled out her battered copy of Volume One.  “Here,” She said.  “This one is about magic as well, and it’s a silly sort of funny.  It should cheer you up.”

 Hermione stared at the manga in confusion.  “Why are you giving me this?”

 “Lending!”  Terry corrected quickly.  “I want it back, alright?  My address is written in the front.”

 Hermione looked back up at Terry with shining eyes.  “Thank you!  But, I don’t have anything –” 

 “Until this term,” Terry interrupted her.  “My only friend was my cat.  Now I have a human friend, and I rather like it.  Besides, I think _Matilda_ is a good judge of character.”

 Naturally, it was at that time that the doctors called out, “ _Wisteria Petrovya!”_ , and Terry moved back to Kazimir, both of them making their way towards the front office.  Cutting half a glance over her shoulder, Terry called a cheerful _“See ya!”_ ; Hermione was staring down at the manga in her lap, biting her bottom lip between two over-sized front teeth, and face shrouded by that wild bushy hair.  Although neither of them were aware of it yet, that was the day that Hermione Granger joined the Baba Yaga Guild.

 

 

 

  


 

 


	10. 10. A Good Day's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where absolutely noone is surprised to see Hermione getting her nerd on. Part Two of the (late) birthday update!

**_28 th November 2009  
_ ** **_(Saturday)_ **

Once Harry was finally allowed out of his cupboard, he planned to spend the whole day working for the Guild.  After he had made breakfast for the Dursleys, Harry had swiped a piece of toast, thrown on his guild vest, and raced out the door, Temnaya Polnoch’ launching herself onto his shoulder and hitching a ride.  He did Mr Hobs at Number Nine’s mowing and yardwork for an hour, Mrs Figgs’ grocery shopping in twenty minutes, and spent almost an hour and a half walking the two Labradors from Number Eight, Magnolia Crescent and the beagle from Number Twelve, Wisteria Way.  Miss Cameron’s, Mr Beetleblax, and old Mrs Carbuncle’s yardwork kept him busy until well after lunch, but thankfully Mrs Carbuncle’s great-niece was visiting, and gave Harry some truly delicious jam and scones and lemonade (and an extra five pounds for washing her car (and to make up for the fact that her great-aunt usually paid the Babas fifty pence and a handful of hardboiled lollies each)).

At four-thirty in the afternoon, Harry and Temnaya went over to the house of one of his and Terry’s classmates for maths tutoring on the other side of town, which lasted another hour, before finally returning to Number Ten.  A very put-out Terry was waiting for them on the front steps, pouting.

“Took your time.”

Harry’s lips twitched up into a small smile.  “Nah, just did all the jobs we missed – we’ve made almost thirty quid today!!  Besides, you try being in a cupboard for a week, see how you like it.”

Terry scowled at him, gently scratching behind Temnaya Polnoch’’s ears as the part-Kneazle cuddled up on her lap.  “You try spending three hours having two dentists pick over your teeth and basically say there’s nothing they can do to fix up your mouth.”

“Thought you didn’t want it fixed?”

Terry grimaced.  “Papochka does, but.”

Harry nodded solemnly.  “He is an adult, though, they don’t get these sorts of things.  Besides, if the dentists say they can’t do anything, they can’t do anything.”

Terry nodded glumly.  “S’pose you’re right…  Oh yeah, I met a girl today, and I lent her my copy of Volumes One and Two.”

Harry’s eyebrows climbed up towards his messy fringe.  “Really?  D’we have a new guild member joining, then?”

Terry shrugged.  “Maybe?  I don’t know yet, we’ll see what she thinks of it all.  She’d finished Volume One whilst I was having my teeth poked at, and I lent her Volume Two before we left, so if she asks for the third one, I might lend it to her, and if I see her the next time I’m in London, I’ll ask if she’d like to join us.  The more the merrier, yeah?”

Harry grinned.  “What kind of magic do you think she might try to learn?  Or d’you think she’ll just be a non-magical member?”

Terry thought hard for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip with her new canines.  “I think she does have magic – a Muggle-born witch.  As for a Fioran magic…  maybe Levy?  She had callouses on her fingers from writing, and she was reading _Matilda_ when I met her, so she either loves stories or is very studious, so maybe even that new guy in the manga – Hibiki or whatever?  Archive?” Harry nodded his understanding.  “Yeah, Solid Script or Archive, I think.  But, you know, we’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

Harry hummed, before saying, “It would really balance the guild out then, wouldn’t it?  You and I are both Melee types, and Temnaya is a behind-the-scenes type, so it would be good to have someone who’s a little bit in the middle, don’t you think?”

Terry flashed a grin, but before she could say anything else, the phone rang inside, and she ran to fetch it.

"Petrovy Household and Baba Yaga Guild Hall, how may I help you?”

 “ _Um, Terry?  Wisteria?  It’s Hermione Granger, we met at my parents’ practice today…?_ ”

 Terry laughed.  “Yeah, hi Hermione!  Did you finish Vol. Two already?”

 “ _Yes, I did – it was fabulous!_ ”  Gone was the shy girl from moments before.  “ _I’m not usually a fan of comics or mangas, but this is very well written, if rather silly, though you said it would be when you gave me the first one –_ ” all of this was said very fast, within the one breath.  “ _–but I absolutely love the story about Duke Everlue!  I didn’t think it at first, but Lucy is very clever and well-read, and their magic is incredible!_ ”

 “So you liked it then?”  Terry asked dryly.

 “ _Yes_!”  Hermione said breathlessly.  “ _Do you have the next one?  Are you coming back to London again soon?_ ”

 “I’m supposed to be visiting my grandparents next weekend.”  Terry said, scratching her chin.  “And Harry and I have Guild work all day tomorrow, to make up for what we’ve missed this week…  But we might be able to ask Papochka if we can catch the train to London after school someday, and come back again in the evening?”

 “ _That sounds wonderful!_ ”  Hermione gushed.  “ _Do you have a pen and paper?  I’ll give you my address, or we can just meet at the Practice again, or there’s a library half-way between there and the station – I’ve already checked though, they don’t have any of the series, which is quite a pity.  What do you mean by Guild work?_ ”

 Terry flashed a grin and thumbs up at an eavesdropping Harry and Temnaya, before saying to Hermione, “We’ll meet you at the practice, I know how to get there, at least.  Do you remember how I said I only had one human friend?” 

 Hermione hummed down the line, so she continued.

 “That’s Harry Potter, we go to school together here in Little Winging.  In September, we created our own guild called Baba Yaga.  We do odd jobs around town for money or treats most days of the week.  We’ll tell you all about it when we see you though – can I get your number?  That way we can let you know when we’re leaving and what day we can do it!”

 The two had just finished exchanging proper contact details (as well as how to find more of the manga online), when Hermione asked, in a rather hesitant voice, “ _Just, before you go, Terry, I – I have one last question._ ”

 “Mm, shoot.”

_“Oh, it’s silly, but I …  Is… Is Baba Yaga a Working-Guild, or a Wizard-Guild?”_

 Terry was quiet for a moment thinking of the best possible response she could make.

 “Does it really matter?  As long as you have your friends, that’s your guild right there!  But, I suppose you could call me Wendy Marvel,” She decided finally.  “Co-Master of Baba Yaga.”

 She hung up before Hermione could say anything further; Harry pinched her ear.

 “What’s this about _Master_?”  He demanded hotly.

 “What part of _co_ don’t you get?!”  Terry snapped back.  “We both made this guild, we both earn the money, so we’re both Master!”

  _< I suppose it had to happen eventually,>_ Temnaya Polnoch’ sighed.  < _Power dynamics, and all that._ >

 “You know,” Terry growled through a forced smile.  “For a half-grown kitten, you’re pretty smart-mouthed.”

 < _Cat years are different to human years_ > Temnaya sniffed.  < _By the time I am two of your years, I will already be twenty-five, and then every year after that is another four again.  So you see, I am already older than both of you._ >

 Harry and Terry both gave Temnaya deadpan stares, turned around, and walked into the kitchen.

 Eight and nine they might be, but both of them really needed a drink – that is to say, of orange juice, but the principle still stood. It had been a long week for the two Babas, and an even longer day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Eleven should /hopefully/ be out within the next few days. Thank you so much for all of the support that this fic has received!


	11. 11. Hibiki Lates

_ Baba Yaga Guild _

Chapter Eleven: Hibiki Lates

**OK, so, the double update received one of the LARGEST responses I have EVER gotten on this site (also for birthday wishes, thank you all so much!).  The vast majority of the reviews were very encouraging and had me giggling for days, but I have something important to say: Emma Watson will always be my Hermione.  But this is fanfiction, and if I want to use the black Hermione trope, I will – if you’re not cool with that, you don’t have to read it.  Sozza.  
H A P P  Y A U S T R A L I A  D A Y!!**

* * *

****

**_28 th November 2009  
_ ** **_(Saturday)_ **

 “… Is Baba Yaga a Working-Guild, or a Wizard-Guild?”  Hermione held her breath, and waited for Terry’s answer.

 “ _Does it really matter?  As long as you have your friends, that’s your guild right there!  But, I suppose you could call me Wendy Marvel – Co-Master of Baba Yaga.”_   A dial tone signalled that Hermione had just been hung up on.

 In years to come, Hermione Granger would look back at this moment and wonder why it took her so long to realise that her guildmasters were both grade A drama queens.  Currently, she was left wondering who the hell Wendy Marvel was, but that’s what Google was for.  Within a few hours, however, she had managed to almost catch up with the manga, as well as discovering the wikia page for Fairy Tail, and a certain Sky Dragon Slayer.

 With Terry’s suggestion that Baba Yaga was a magician’s guild, Hermione was now paying even closer attention to the different magicks being demonstrated in the manga.  Originally, if you had asked Hermione which magic she felt best suited herself, she would have answered with Solid Script, then Jutsu Shiki, as she witnessed each magic in action.  It wasn’t until she reached the Nirvana Arc that Hermione realised that she was mistaken.  Should Wisteria Petrovya and Harry Potter ask her to join their guild and pick a magic to learn, Hermione would ask for Archive.

 Yes, Hermione was a bibliophile whose dearest companions were words and whose greatest love was rules, but the idea of collecting and collating information, of basically becoming a human database – Wikipedia, Google Drive and Drop Box all in one – was a far more tempting idea.  She might not like Hibiki Lates attitude, but she could appreciate his magic, his thirst for knowledge.

 Her parents were well-used to Hermione’s late-night study binges.  At four, she had figured out reading by following her parents’ and sitters’ fingers during story-time, by five she had read most of the classics (Roald Dahl, C. S. Lewis, Tolkien, Diana Wynne Jones and Enid Blyton, just to name a few), at six she learnt the first twelve timetables, and at seven she had figured out division- as well as read the entire works of Tamora Pierce.  Eight years old had been when Hermione decided she’d had enough of fantasy, and had turned her reading towards historical accounts, and at nine, the Doctors Granger had had to put up with long-division and trigonometry, and this year it had been French – when they first noticed Hermione’s new interest in this strange Asian comic series, her parents had been glad for a more childish pursuit.

 They would soon find that, however childish, Baba Yaga was about to become more – to everyone – than just a thirst for knowledge, or desire for companions.

****

* * *

**_29 th November 2009  
_ ** **_(Sunday)_ **

 

_Dear Papochka,_

_We are doing Guild Work all day, because we missed this week.  We wanted to make you breakfast again, but Temnaya didn’t think it would be a good idea, so we left everything to you.  When we come home, we want to talk to you about going to London during the middle of the week.  We want to see ~~Hermyohnee~~ ~~Hermioon~~ _ H e r m i o n y _so we can give her more Fairy Tail to read!!_

_Love from Terry, Harry and Temnaya Polnoch’_

 Kazimir Petrovy couldn’t help but laugh at the letter that awaited him in front of the kettle early Sunday morning.  To think, not even six months ago his daughter had had no friends bar for her cat, and now she was on good enough terms with someone to ask if she couldn’t visit them.  Oh, Lilian would have laughed for hours and smiled for days, were she still with them.

 Sobering, Kazimir picked up the cordless phone and made his way into his study, flicking through paperwork until he found the business card from the other day, with the personal mobile numbers of Michael and Janine Granger.  Glancing at the clock, Kazimir could only hope that the good doctors would be awake at nine o’clock on a Sunday, and was pleasantly surprised when Michael answered on the third ring.

 “Mishka,” He said smoothly. 

 “Kazik!  How is our little dragon doing today?”

 “Well, thank you.  Actually, it’s your Hermione that has me calling.  She and Terry met in the waiting room yesterday, and Terry lent her some books.  As I understand it, they would like to meet later in the week for an exchange.”

 There was some small grumbling on the other end.  “Yes, we noticed the comics or whatever they were this morning – all she’s done is read them and look at even more of it on the computer!”

 With a quirked smile and a sharp laugh, Kazimir couldn’t help but agree.  “This is what I’ve had to deal with for the last three months!  I do not begrudge my girl much, but there’s only so much of it a man can take – and I have two of them now!”

 “I – _oh, yes thank you, dear, please_ – I was sure you only had the one little dragon?”

 “That is true,” Kazimir answered simply.  “But her friend Harry may as well be mine, at this point in stage.  The both of them are absolutely mad about the one manga in particular, Fairy Tail – that’s the one they’ve lent to Hermione, too.  You would not think it, but it’s been good for them.  Their grades have improved, they exercise regularly, and the odd-jobs they do around town give them responsibility, and a head for money.”

 “Really?”  Michael exclaimed.  “My, my, isn’t that impressive!  My girl’s grades don’t need any help, of course, but exercise wouldn’t hurt her.  When did the children want us to visit?”

 “No, no, old friend, we’ll come to you.”

  “If you had wanted that, you wouldn’t have called.  You were sneakier when we were kids, you know, Kazik.”  Michael teased. 

 Kazimir chuckled.  “Fair point.  Whenever you should find yourself free, then.”

 “Wednesday it is!”  Michael said cheerfully.  “If we pull Hermione out after lunch, and do a half day at the Practice, then we should get there just as the children get out of school.  _How’s that sound_?”

 “Your Russian is shit,” Kazimir said cheekily, before hanging up.

 Dramatism was, apparently, a family trait.

 

* * *

 

Janine had known her husband since they were small children – she, Michael and the Petrovy brothers had grown up side by side, in London’s outskirts.  In school, it had long been agreed that Michael Granger and Kazimir Petrovy should never be left alone for too long, because between the two of them, they got up to far too much mischief.  Before long their quartet numbering three, with Alexei off to whatever secret Scottish boarding school it was that he disappeared to every term;  university found them going their separate ways, Kazimir to Oxford to become a doctor, and Janine and Michael to Cambridge to become dentists.

Janine and Michael were wed by twenty, and Kazimir and Lilian the following year; Janine smiled from the pews with baby Hermione in her arms, as her husband walked the bride down the aisle.  Kazimir and Janine’s sister Catherine had been named Hermione’s godparents, and the February after their marriage saw a squalling Terry come into the world, with Michael and Lilian’s sister Susanna as her godparents.  Of course, this was now the middle of a war; it was another five years before Lilian and Kazimir moved back to London with baby Terry, hiding behind Lilian’s maiden name for protection.  The four friends would see each other at medical gatherings of occasion, but unfortunately their children were never made aware of each other and their connection, until coincidence led Terry to comfort Hermione at her parents’ practice

 

**_2 nd December 2009  
_ ** **_(Wednesday)_ **

 The children had quickly escaped to Terry’s cubby house to talk guild things, leaving the adults to reminisce.  It would be quite some time before the children would find out about their parents connection – that Terry and Hermione’s fathers had once been closer than brothers, that James Potter had thought the world of Kazimir and Alexei Petrovy, even if Kazimir was a squib and Alexei was in _Slytherin,_ of all houses.

 At that moment, the three children were busy comparing impressions they’d taken from Fairy Tail, and were discussing Hermione’s joining of Baba Yaga.

 “In this guild,” Terry was saying imperiously, “we have a fairly simple creed.  _Always offer a helpful hand to those that need one, and do everything in your power to stand up for the little guy_.  Do you think you can follow that?”

 Hermione nodded solemnly.  “I can do that, Masters.”

 “Awesome!  This is your work vest, for when you do jobs.  Ha – uh, Yuka?”

 Harry quirked a grin.  “Right.  The jobs that Wendy, Warren and I do are pretty simple.  We walk dogs, clean yards and wash cars.  At the moment we’re almost too young for babysitting, but we’ve done that once or twice as well.  Reckon you’re up to it?”

 “Aye!”

  _< Now all you need is a magic to learn, and a codename.>_ Temnaya added from the cushion between Harry and Terry.

 Hermione didn’t even hesitate.  “Archive.  You can call me Hibiki Lates from here on out.”

 Terry, Harry and Temnaya all exchanged grim looks, before breaking out into Cheshire cat smiles.

 “ _Welcome to Baba Yaga!_ ”

 Hermione squealed, launching herself forward; all four Babas collapsed backwards onto the floor in a group cuddle, laughing their heads off.

 < _So_ ,> Temnaya said, once everyone had calmed down.  < _We now have a telepathic cat, a healing Dragon, a physics anomaly, and Google personified.  A very eclectic guild, if you ask me.  Perhaps we should show our newest member how we train?  And maybe a job as well._ >

 “Good points, Warren,” Harry grinned.  “Alright, where’s that iPod?  Her – Hibiki, behold our training regime!  This is the Nutbush!”

 

* * *

 

 

**Terry Petrovya = Wendy Marvel, Sky Dragon Slayer**

**Harry Potter = Yuka Suzuki, Hadō (Wave)**

**Temnaya Polnoch’ = Warren, Telepathy**

**Hermione Granger = Hibiki Lates, Archive.**

**Next chapter should, _hopefully_ , introduce two new Babas.  You might be able to guess who they are!  On a similar note, if there’s any magic that you feel particularly suits a character, then please let me know who, which magic, and your reasoning.  Some people were really easy to assign magicks to, but then some people are giving me a bit a hard time of it.  Namely, Ron and Luna.  Oh my _gods_ , Luna!  I’ve changed my mind about her a bajillion times, and Ron is almost as bad!  A shout out to Guest-san for already putting in a vote for Hermione and Luna, you had a very sound argument for both; thank you very much!  Until next time!**

**  
**


	12. 12.  Erza and Bickslow

_ Baba Yaga Guild _

Chapter Twerteen: Erza and Bickslow

**Holy schistballs, I can _not_ believe the response this is getting!  Thank you all so, so much for your reviews and ideas!  Everybody had pretty clear reasons for why they wanted what, and I’m taking everything into account (you should see the tally document!).  However, some of the magicks you have suggested I had already allocated to another member (which you’re going to see this chapter, which was already written when Eleven was published), so no hard feelings please.  For eve** **ry magic I pick, I’m going to let the character give “their” reason for that particular choice, but don’t be afraid to say “this doesn’t make sense wtf”.  
** **The reason this chapter is called “twerteen” is because I’ve combined twelve and thirteen, and my boyfriend named it.  As you might have guessed, he is a mega-dork -__-”**

****

**_5 th December 2009   
_ ** **_(Saturday)_ **

The best thing about December was that Nadja Petrovya could finally take a bit of a holiday.

The family commitments that she had all throughout the month meant that, when she was first brought into the Secret Service, she negotiated to have from whenever she finished her last mission in November to New Year’s Eve off from work, and then return to work early on the first of the year.  Many in the office thought it was an unfair amount of leave, until they considered that Nadja so _rarely_ took days off throughout the year.

“Coming for drinks, Nads?”  Hillary “Hilly” Yao had been one of Nadja’s very few friends in high school, and had followed her to the secret service.  “First round’s my shout.”

“I’d love to, Hilly, but I’m supposed to be babysitting my cousins tonight.”

“Which side?”

“Mum’s.”

“Yikes, that’s the really snooty ones, yeah?  They’re not that young though, right?”

“Daphne is ten next month, and Astoria is seven.  They could be worse.”

Hilly winced sympathetically, grabbed Nadja’s hand, and put on a – poor – Russian accent.  “Ah, yees, I see much Disaney movies in your future!”

“Eff off, Yao!”  Nadja laughed, pulling her hands free and fishing out her phone to call a cab.

“Up yours, Petrovya!”  Hilly called back cheerfully, walking away backwards.  “Call me when you’re free this week!  There’s a bottle of Black Douglas with our name on it!”

Nadja looked up from her phone with a smirk.  “It had better still be there when I come over!”

Hilly gave a mock two-fingered salute and disappeared amongst the gathering crowds.  Nadja caught her cab home, changed clothes quickly, swapped go bags, and hailed the Night Bus.

 “Well, if it ain’t the Petrovy Squib!”  Hooted the conductor, Eustace Shunpike.  “We don’t like your kind here, _muggle_!”

 “If that was the case,” Nadja said calmly.  “Then you wouldn’t pull up when I hailed you.”  At Eustace’s dumbstruck expression, Nadja gave him her fare and patted his cheek condescendingly before making her way to the last free seat.  Considering they had this conversation _every_ time Nadja visited her relatives, you’d think that Eustace would come up with something a bit more original.

 “Greengrass Kent Estate, please, Ernie!”

 Just to because she knew how much it would annoy the pure-bloods who were stink-eyeing her, Nadja pulled her iPod out of her coat pocket and tucked the headphones in, blasting Taylor Swift and Greenday. 

 It was just under an hour later that the Night Bus pulled up at the front gates to the estate; Ernie wished her happy holidays, but Eustace pushed her down the steps and laughed when she fell in a bit of mud.  The bus had pulled away before Nadja could even think to curse the bastard.

 “Knew I should’ve flooed,” she grumbled, looking at her messy robes and wishing desperately that someone would invent a cleaning charm that didn’t require magic to use.

 “Dione,” Uncle Ophion was as disapproving as ever, by the tone of his voice – and still insistent on using her “proper” name.  “A proper pureblood arrives promptly and neatly.  Even if you are just a squib, please at least try to blend in.”

 Nadja bit the inside of her cheek hard enough that she tasted blood, but answered her uncle in the plainest voice she could manage.  “My apologies, uncle.  I’ll take the Floo next time.”

 “And get cinders all over my parlour, right before the gala?  Certainly not!  No, you will just have to find another way of travelling – a _decent_ way, mind, not some muggle contraption.”

 Nadja thought longingly of a sixty-seven Chevy Impala, and distracted her temper with images of Dean Winchester’s physique.  “Of course, uncle.”

 “The girls are in their room.  The gala will last until midnight, and I expect not to hear a peep out of any of you!”

 “Yes uncle,” Nadja drew in a deep breath, waited for Ophion to turn his back, and quickly spat to the side, trying to get the taste of blood out of her mouth.  Naturally, Ophion didn’t even notice, and allotted a House Elf to lead her up to her cousins.

 Once the door was closed behind the Elf, Nadja gave Daphne and Astoria a small smile.  “Alright?”

 “Yes, cousin,” the two said softly.

 Nadja’s sharp eyes flickered over the two girls, taking in every detail.  “You been unladylike again, Asya?  I hope you were careful, _dorogaya_.”

 Astoria’s lips quirked up into a tiny smirk.  “How could you tell?”

 Nadja pulled a handkerchief out of her bag, and dusted at the grass stains on Astoria’s elbows and knees.  “Magic,” she winked. 

 The sisters exchanged a quick glance, before smiling brightly up at Nadja. 

 “We finished those books you left with us!”  Astoria said breathlessly.  “They were wonderful!  Right, Daph?”

 Daphne nodded, and gave a wolf smile.  “I like Ultear!  She’s so sneaky.”

 “Happy and Natsu!”  Astoria whisper-cheered.  “They’re so funny!”

 Nadja grinned down at them.  “Well that’s good to hear – guess what I brought?”

 “More books?!”  The sisters exclaimed, eyes alight.

 “Not quite – I brought my laptop and harddrive, we’re going to watch the anime together.  You girls have only read up to the end of the Phantom Lord Arc, so we’re going to start on the episode immediately after that and work out way up.  Sound like a plan?” 

 As much as Nadja hated her blood-supremist uncle, these cousins, at least, were still alright.

 

* * *

 

The laptop had long gone flat, and the House Elves had been kind enough to bring dinner and supper up to Nadja, Daphne and Astoria.  Nadja was teaching them how to play Poker, mostly because she was sick of Astoria kicking both of their arses at Gin Rummy, and it hurt her pride that Daphne was better at Bullshit than she was.

“Nadja?”  Astoria asked in a quiet voice.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think… Is it possible for real people to learn Fioran magic?”

Nadja took a moment to study her much-younger cousin – a weak body that bruised and bled far-too-easily, lank flaxen hair, pale jade eyes, which was all Ophion would ever see, looking at his youngest daughter.  Nadja saw the same colours, but a very different image had been painted with them; muscles developing and bruises fading with the help of extra vitamins, hair neglected because of too-busy mind, and fierce determination hiding behind a timid exterior.

“You’ve pulled it off too, huh.”  This was not a question.  “Well, well, I’m impressed!  Who did you go for?”

Astoria stared at Nadja, shocked by her calm acceptance.  “You knew that we could?!”

“Sure.  My cousin Terry and her friend Harry figured it out weeks ago.  Who’d you go for, Asya?”

“Um, Erza.  I stole a butter knife from the kitchen, I’ve been practicing since your last visit.”

Nadja bit her lip, staring _hard_ at her tiny cousin.  “Why?”

“Because Erza, she – she doesn’t stand down to anyone!  Even when she was out of magic against Eisenwald, or outmatched by Jose and Jupiter, she kept on getting back up again and again, because her friends needed her!  She stands up for her guild, and it doesn’t matter how tired she is, or how badly she aches, because she just gets up, again and again!!”

“What about your condition?”

“Those muggle vitamins you’ve been sneaking me have helped,” Astoria reassured her.  “And that yoga book has been good, too.  We meditate and stretch every morning before breakfast, and most nights before bed, and I take lots of breaks between Requip practices, and Daphne makes sure I drinks lots of water and eat lots of energising foods.”

Nadja gave her a vicious, bright smile, and turned to Daphne.  “You’re learning too?”

She shook her head.  “In the first eight books you left us in October, I hadn’t quite found one that matched me, although Jose came close, but, from the anime… I think I like Bickslow.  Figure Eyes is like super Legilamency and the Imperious combined, and the idea of being able to make a contract with a ghost is pretty cool.  If I ever need to get us out of … somewhere uncomfortable, then it doesn’t matter if I’m close to my opponents or at the end of the hall.”  Daphne’s eyes flickered to her baby sister and back to Nadja.  “I will always keep us safe.”

Nadja pulled her phone out of her bag, and flicked through her gallery until she could show Daphne and Astoria a picture of Terry, Harry and Temnaya Polnoch’ collapsed in a laughing heap on Terry’s back lawn, from when she last visited.

“These three went and made their own guild.  They call themselves Baba Yaga; Terry taught herself Sky Dragon Slayer magic, Harry taught himself Yuka’s Wave magic, and the cat has taught herself telepathy.  I got a message two days ago to say they have another friend who’s just joined, and is about to start learning Archive, a magic you haven’t seen yet.  I can get them to talk to you, if you both like?  They’ve been taking down notes about all of the different magicks, and they’d love new members, as well.”

Astoria’s eyes were shining, but Daphne was far more hesitant.

“What do we tell Father?  He’ll be curious about all of the new mail we’d be getting, he’ll ask questions.”

Nadja ruffled the top of her head.  “This is why we have the internet.  Also, if Hermione is able to figure out Archive soon, she should be able to just upload the information into your heads, and you’ll be able to write it all out for yourselves.  Tell ya what, I’ll get you both diaries for Christmas, that way it’s less suspicious!”

“You would do that?!”  The sisters exclaimed.

Nadja smiled sadly.  “Yeah – you’re both blood, after all.  Besides, once you get to Hogwarts, you should be able to get together with the rest of the Babas, they’ll give you a hand.  Hermione and Harry are both going to be in your grade, Daph, by the way.”

“Are you sure?”  Daphne asked.  “That they would let us join, I mean.  No one… none of the other pureblood kids ever wanted us to join in before.”

Nadja pushed down the lump that rose in her throat at that.  “Terry and Harry are each other’s first friend, and they’ve only known each other since September.  They won’t turn you away, especially if you’re serious on becoming Erza and Bickslow.  I swear it on the pride of their guild.”

“What’s… what’s it called again?”  Astoria asked hesitantly.  “The guild?”

Nadja smiled at them.  “Baba Yaga; they are the spinning shack on chicken feet, the protectors of the little guy, the helpful, the witch with iron teeth.  And I reckon they could use mages like the two of you.”

 

* * *

 

**_6 th December 2009  
_ ** **_(Sunday)_ **

 It wasn’t too much longer after midnight when Ophion came to send Nadja on her way.  The girls had both been put to bed, with a handful of notes tucked into their pillowcases on their respective new magicks, and a small knife each (Nadja had had more than a little fun teaching them tricks on top of defence).

 “Everything went well, Uncle?”  Nadja asked, voice soft.

 Ophion sniffed.  “It could have gone better, if Garret Goyle hadn’t already started drinking before he arrived, but I honestly wasn’t expecting anything better from him.” 

“Riiight,” Nadja tried.  “Well, if there wasn’t anything else you wanted, I’d better go home.”

 “Of course,” Ophion said, eyeing his daughters before gliding away.  “I’ll have Dipsy take you to your parents.  How were the girls?”

 “Perfect angels, as usual.”

 “And what did you have them doing?”

 “Mostly just card games and stories, Uncle.  You know, kids’ stuff.”

 Ophion snorted.  “Unlike you, my daughters will go to Hogwarts soon – assuming Astoria lives that long, with her condition.”  Nadja clenched both fists tightly, and concentrated on breathing evenly.  The only reason she hadn’t told Ophion where he could shove his opinions was because of the girls; Nadja worried over the blood malediction that ailed her youngest cousin, and wasn’t yet a hundred percent sure if The Knight would be the best possible magic for Astoria to learn.  “They should have been studying!  Next time, bring your brothers’ old textbooks, instead.”

 “Yes Uncle,” Nadja said in her plainest voice; they arrived in the main hallway, and Dipsy the House Elf was already waiting.  “Goodnight!”

 Nadja took a tight hold of Dipsy’s hand, and the Elf apparated them back to London.

 “Thank you, Dipsy.  Have a good evening,”

 “It was no worries, Miss!”  The tiny elf squeaked.  “You is always being so goods to my young mistresses!  They is always smiling after you has visited!”

 Nadja gave a tight smile.  “I’m glad to hear it, Dipsy.  Please look after them for me.”

 Dipsy made a scandalised noise.  “It is a House Elf’s _pride_ to look after they’s charges, Miss Dione Greengrass!  You hasn’t need to ask that of Dipsy!”  Nadja scrunched up her nose at the title, but rolled with it.

 “Thank you all the same, Dipsy.  Have a good night.”

 “And you is too, Miss Dione Gree – ”

 “Dipsy, when Aunt and Uncle aren’t about, _please_ just call me Nadja, ok?”

 Dispy hesitated, before finally nodding, squeaking a _good night Miss Nadja!_ , and apparating away.  Nadja let herself back inside quietly, slunk back up to her own room, and immediately plugged both her laptop and phone in to charge.  Moving quietly to avoid waking the rest of her household, Nadja quickly changed into her pajamas, grabbed an energy drink from the small bar fridge beneath her desk, and started rummaging around for a spare notebook whilst she waited for her laptop to reboot. 

It was a Greengrass Family Tradition to share luncheon on the first and last Sunday of each month, and then every Sunday of December.  If she was lucky, Nadja could weasel her way out of attending throughout most of the year due to work, with the exception of December.  This time, however, she was going prepared. 

 Luncheon’s were typically held at a fancy restaurant in a wizarding city, usually either London or Paris, with the children (and _the Squib_ ) being excused once dessert was finished and the (incredibly expensive) brandy was brought forth. 

 These days, the “children” consisted of twenty-three-year-old Nadja, eighteen-year-old Konstantin and fifteen-year-old Darius; nine-year-old Daphne and seven-year-old Astoria; eight-years-old Hestia and Flora; and twenty-one-year-old Porphyreon.  Technically speaking, Nadja, Porphyreon and Konstantin were all adults, but since Nadja was the family disgrace as far as the Greengrass’ were concerned, she could usually escape by offering to take the younger kids for a walk, leaving the boys behind. 

 That only left her with the issue of her additional cousins, Aunt Metis’ twin daughters.  Flora and Hestia weren’t inherently _bad_ children, just occasionally _naughty_ , but were easy enough for Nadja to bribe with Muggle treats and a good story.  Both had a huge sweet tooth that was rarely indulged by either of their parents, and whilst Hestia thought that Slavic folklore was very interesting, Flora lived to hear about how the Muggle Government actually worked.  Nadja, as a spy, was actually paid to figure out and exploit people’s weak spots; she had no compunctions whatsoever about using her training on eight year olds if it meant they kept her secrets for her. 

Until the point in stage where she could have Daphne and Astoria for herself, Nadja was going to make sure that she was on her _absolute_ best behaviour, and that she would have at least enough notes for the new Babas to make something of a start on their research.  Shooting off a quick text to Hilly ([ _Imma need tht bottle 2nite bestie_ ]), Nadja pulled open her web browser, hit up the Fairy Tail wikia, and paused with pen poised over the blank notebook.

 It was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

 

**Dorogaya - sweetheart (thank you Google!)**


	13. 13 Nadja the Drop Bear

* * *

**_6_ ** **_th_ ** **_December 2009  
(Sunday)_ **

Arabella Figg was many things. She was a sister, a daughter, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a friend in a pinch. She was also, and had always been, a Squib.

Unlike her son-in-law, Arabella didn't have the excuse of having Petrovy blood, pure-blooded though she may have been. Her parents and sister had _tried_ to be understanding, but how could people born with magic, who had always _known_ their magic, understand that little hollow feeling she had deep down? How could they just stand there and listen to the blood-supremists go on and on about squibs, and not say anything in her defence? And how could they even begin to think that she, of _all_ people, would be happy to stay and be hidden in their family manor, doing nothing but gardening or breeding kneazles all day?!

Arabella Fawley ran away from home, age fifteen, with three of her prized Kneazles and a few choice clippings from the garden, as well as as much food and gold as she could carry with her. She didn't go to London (the family would start their search there), but rather Edinburgh, for no other reason than because it was different, and she'd always wanted to go to Scotland. She had hitchhiked with strangers in their cars, jumped into the back of moving vans and trucks that seemed to be going to right way, begged and borrowed and stolen newspapers and books and food, so that by the time she arrived on the outskirts of Edinburgh, she could comfortably pass for a Muggle. She found herself a job working in a pet store that catered to Muggles in the front, and the Magical Community out the back, where she and her Kneazles fit in perfectly. She was there until she was twenty-two, which was when she met and started dating a Muggle, Douglas Figg, who was eventually drafted for Vietnam.

Arabella Fawley was a strong-willed, stubborn woman, and she wanted that man. She couldn't cast magic, but she _could_ make protective charms, sew Ancient Runes into his clothes and handkerchiefs, give him a defensive plant to slip into his pocket, "for luck". Within a month of Douglas' return to English soil, Arabella Fawley became Arabella Figg. The following year saw them with a daughter, Lilian, who had about as much magic as both her parents combined. Eleven months later found them with a second daughter, Suzanna. It took them five years to realise that Suzanna _had_ inherited the magical gene, and that she _would_ be going to Hogwarts.

Douglas Figg had always noticed the slightly off happenings that followed his wife and her strange cats, so it didn't take much for Arabella to convince him of the magic that their youngest daughter possessed. What _did_ worry him was the fact that his Bella had run away from home because of her lack of magic, and what it meant for their daughters. Lian and Zanna were sat down in the kitchen for a Very Important Discussion; both tearfully agreed that they would always love each other, and never fight over magic, and don't cry Mummy, we'll be good!

That, of course, was then, and this was now. Arabella had lost her husband to lung cancer brought on by gas exposure and too many cigarettes, her baby girl to Voldemort's stupid war, and her firstborn to breast cancer. The only family left to her was one son-in-law and her granddaughter – she had not spoken to any of the Fawley's in decades, not even her twin sister (their last contact had been when they'd written to each other about their babies, Bella's two daughters and Gussy's little boy, Lian's age and birthday two days after Zanna's).

A Squib could go lots of places a wizard couldn't, could blend in and observe and _understand_ what those with magic never could – that is why she had been so important to the Order of the Phoenix, and the lessons she had long taught to her daughters served them both, even if Zanna and her newborn son still died, and Lian hid herself and her family as far away as she could.

Terry was the last piece of those bright girls left to Arabella, and she intended to make _sure_ that this time, she would not have to bury another of her most precious people.

"… And now you mix the wet ingredients with the dry, dears."

Harry, Terry and Temnaya Polnoch' were learning how to bake a cake. It was going about as well as expected of an eight- and nine-year old (and a cat), and Arabella decided that, for now, learning how to cook was a good start to looking after her darling granddaughter.

After all, that bright-eyed cousin of hers was teaching them self-defence, that _manga_ helped them with their strange branches of magic, and the school would teach them spells. Arabella would teach them how to blend with Muggles, how to cook and clean and order their finances (she was the guild's treasurer – she had a vest to prove it), how to stitch and work a phone and a computer. If the Daft Lord never returned, then these two brilliant children had the option of either the Magical or Muggle world, right at their fingertips.

And Arabella was fine with that.

* * *

Researching The Knight, Figure Eyes and Seith Magic had been easy, and Nadja had dutifully copied down what information she could off of the Wikia page, adding explanations of words she thought might confuse her cousins, and ideas on how to go about learning these new branches. She may or may not have trolled through , Archive Of Our Own and Tumblr for fics where a normal (or at least, non-Fioran) person learnt some of the magicks, with minimal success. At seven o'clock she sent off a quick text to Uncle Kazimir, asking Terry and Harry if they had any notes on any of the aforementioned magicks.

(Dyadya texted back that the two were with Arabella today, so that Terry could recover from whatever strange things their grandparents had had her doing all Saturday when she visited them. Nadja resigned herself to not hearing from the Baba Masters until well after the Luncheon was finished.)

With what notes she could make written and tucked away down her bra, Nadja was mostly ready to deal with the family luncheon. As usual, Uncle Helios spoke about the happenings in the ministry, Mum bragged about her boys, Uncle Ophion explained whatever the hell it was that was going wrong with Gringotts _now_ , and Aunt Metis simpered about how well her interior-decorating was going, and how much _better_ it would be if witches and wizards didn't insist on living amongst _Muggles_.

Nadja's muttered _you'd think they'd make up seventy-five percent of our country or something_ went as ignored as it ever was, although the younger cousins did stare at her wide-eyed, and Kon kicked her lightly under the table in warning. It helped that she'd said this in Russian – only her father and brothers, as well as the younger cousins she'd had to babysit over the years, actually understood what she said, which is how Nadja liked it.

From the disgust over Muggles, the conversation moved on to disgust over magical creatures (Goblins) and the latest petitions for being statis (Centuars). Knowing from personal experience, Nadja knew that the conversation was about to turn to Squibs – woop de doo. #sarcasm.

"Mother?" Flora piped up, to everybody's surprise. "Can we be excused please?"

"Of course, darlings! Dione, would you be a dear?"

Squashing back on the desire to bark out _my name is_ _ **Nadja**_ , Nadja smiled sweetly at her aunt. "Certainly. Anybody else?"

Daphne, Astoria, Hestia and Darius all stood up eagerly, leaving Konstantin and Porphyreon behind with the adults.

"Thanks for the save!" Nadja told Flora as they ducked out of the restaurant and slunk down a London side street. "I owe you, Flochka!"

Flora wrinkled her nose at her cousin, and grumped, "So long as you stop calling me Flochka, and tell me all about what's happening in the Muggle Government right now, we're cubed."

"Square," Nadja corrected with a bright smile. "Deal! Alright, kiddies, what sweets do we want this time?"

Darius was cool with whatever, the Greengrass sisters (for whatever demented reason) wanted ice cream, Hestia wanted chocolate and Flora wanted lollypops that they could take home and hide for later. Nadja compromised and took them to a sweets shop that had all three, explaining how the current British government worked to Flora, and detailing what her job entitled (or at least as much as she could, anyway). The other children grew bored with that, however, so Nadja spun a quick story about a Serbian dragon called a _zmaj_ , a Cornish pixie and an Australian drop-bear who were penpals trying to figure out the perfect Christmas gift for each other.

" _Now the poor drop-bear, who lived the furthest away, was in a complete panic!" Nadja narrated as they slipped through backalleys to their destination. "He had to find his presents the earliest, so that he could get them posted to his friends in Britain and Serbia. For you see, in Australia, the post takes a very long time to go anywhere. Everything is a lot further away down there, and at this time of year, it's really hot – forty degrees in some place, can you believe that?!_ " The children giggled at the faces that Nadja pulled to illustrate her point, walking backwards where she could. " _Their owls don't work the same way that ours do, so Australian wizards have to use other creatures for the postal system – they have a series of messengers, who take a parcel as far as they can before passing it on. In order to get his parcels to the pixie and the zmaj, our drop-bear had to use three kangaroos, two emus, a paddymelon, a wombat, a fox, and finally a batch of seagulls, who would then hand it over to an owl. But first, he had to find his presents!_

" _He went to his friends, the Bunyip and the Dromornis, and asked what they thought would make a nice gift – but both told him to send them human steaks, and our poor drop-bear, who was a vegetarian, thought that maybe he should look somewhere else. At that the bunyip told him to give them pretty stones from the bottom of a waterhole, and the Dromornis told him to send his friends something to help keep their teeth strong. These ideas made so much more sense to our drop-bear, that he thanked his friends and went to terrify some humans out of their sparkly jewellery and their toothbrushes for both the pixie and the zmaj._ "

Here is where their story had to put on the backburner for a moment, because a mugger decided that Nadja would make easy pickings. Unfortunately, he was mistaken.

"Give me your money! Hand it over!"

Nadja's smile turned wolfish at the sides. "Perfect timing. Cousins, do you know how that drop-bear managed to get the presents for his friends?"

"Wot' the fuck're ya talking abou', you bitch?!"

"Study closely," Nadja hissed, launching herself to the side of the mugger, up a wall in a sprint – she flipped backwards, and landed on the back of the surprised man, one elbow locked around his throat, one leg kicking his arm up, and her hand snapped down quickly, using strength and pressure points to pop his hand open, and steal the knife, which she placed at the throat of her wood-be mugger, who whimpered.

"And that is how a drop-bear takes out his prey," Nadja said innocently, as the four young girls watched her with eyes like saucers, and her youngest brother facepalmed in the corner.

The rest of the trip to the sweet shop was perfectly ordinary, and Nadja's story about the zmaj, pixie and drop-bear went down a treat, ending with everybody safely delivering all of their presents, just in time for Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an Australian, yes, I was taking the piss with Nadja's story. Drop-bears, Bunyips and Dromornis don't typically share environments, mostly because the bears like taller trees than what you can usually find in the scrub, Bunyips like deep, murky billabongs they can hide in, and the Dromornis are actually an extinct avian megafauna, which was dying off during early Aboriginal settlement (circa fifty-thousand years ago), and is depicted in many cavepaintings being found today. The more you know!  
> A head's up for next week – no, unfortunately I'm not going to post a Valentine's update. Imma be pretty busy travelling six hundred kilometres and baking a birthday cake for my sister, who is, unfortunately for her, stuck at boarding school. Keep an eye out on Friday though!


	14. 14 Drink and Daring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse the use of Google Translate. Since alcohol is involved here, I hope those of you who speak Russian will forgive me

_ Baba Yaga Guild _

Chapter Fourteen: Drink and Daring

**  
** **Inspiration for this first bit comes from HaniB2003, who is amazing and all sorts of adorable, as well as my twenty-first birthday party.**

* * *

 

**_6_ ** **_th_ ** **_December 2009  
_ ** **_(Sunday)_ **

Sunday evening found Nadja catching a cab to the tiny apartment that Hilly shared with two of her cousins and her younger sibling. Hilly let her in easily enough, teasing her about Disney movies and family lunches, and pulling down two shot glasses and the promised bottle of Black Douglas, which they would, thankfully, have all to themselves, as all of Hilly's family were out. Jack was practicing with his local dance troupe, Huian was attending a flight that was somewhere over India, with Singapore as its final destination, and Alex was studying for their latest exam with friends at QMUL – or else they had passed out in a night club in denial, Hilly wasn't sure, and half a bottle later, Nadja really couldn't care less. Within two hours they had polished off the bottom of the scotch bottle, a six-pack of bourbon, and a bottle of vodka Nadja had brought back from the Old Country. About three-quarters of the way through the second bottle of vodka, Nadja's phone started to sing out _The Nutbush_ , which was the personal ringtone for Kazimir.

"Leave it, Jar jar!" Hilly whined. "We hafta finish thish bottle!"

Nadja shoved a hand in Hilly's face, squishing her nose and pushing her off the couch. "Allo, Dyadya?"

"Nadja!" Uncle Kazimir wailed from the other end of the line. "I thought you had spoken to them! I thought you had _stopped this!_ This accursed melody is once again wreaking havoc on all musical tastes and eardrums, and you said you had stopped it!"

_The Nutbush_ blasted back over the speakers.

Nadja squinted at her phone, and batted Hilly's hands away from her own nose. "Ya wha?"

"The Nutbush!" Kazimir roared. "This is all your fault, Nadja!"

"Ish not!" Hilly, having pulled herself back up onto the couch, had snagged the phone. "Jar jar ish tha' besterest person out there!" unsurprising after all of the alcohol, Hilly was now very tearfully and very drunkenly reading Kazimir the riot act, as well as insisting that Nadja was the greatest friend ever. Nadja took another shot of vodka, dragged herself to her feet, and stumbled her way to the bathroom. Predictably, Hilly was still blubbering on the phone when Nadja returned and stole it back.

"Dolzhen idti, dyadya. Ya dolzhen polozhit' moy Kitay v postel'. C'mon, Hilly, we gotta finish that bottle."

Nadja dropped the phone down between the couch cushions, leaving her uncle very confused as to why she needed to put her bed in China.

* * *

 

**8** **th** **December 2009  
** **(Tuesday)**

The Petrovy cousins were rarely visited, and rarely allowed to visit. Ophion, Helios and Metis all feared that the Petrovy line's disposition towards squibs would spread to their own offspring, so whilst they were more than ok with visiting their sister Leto, her children – especially her daughter – were often asked to remain far away, until the Greengrass siblings felt a need for them.

If the Carrow twins wanted to visit the younger Greengrass sisters, then no one would think anything of it, especially since Hestia and Flora were the year between Daphne and Astoria. As a matter of course, the twins were typically the only other pureblooded children willing to play with Astoria, given her malediction.

Ophion and Metis, equal parts inseparable and each other's sworn nemesis, encouraged their daughters to play, never fully aware of what the four girls were getting up to.

In this instance, it was definitely mischief, and _most assuredly_ of the muggle-inspired variety.

"You took your time," Daphne scolded the twins, once their mothers had left the girls all to their own devices. "What took you so long?!"

Wearing identical scowls, the twins said in unison, "We didn't want it to be suspicious!"

"That doesn't matter!" Astoria interrupted "What matters is we all work together! Here, these are the latest notes Nadja gave us – do you still have the volumes?"

"All eight of them," the twins synchronised.

"So, is it true?" Flora asked.

"Did Nadja say whether real people can do this magic?" Hestia added.

Astoria gave them a bright, vicious smile that she had obviously learnt off Nadja, and reequipped her throwing knife to hand, flicking it around and through her fingers.

"Erza Scarlet," Astoria said smugly. "At your service."

The twins turned bug-eyes from Astoria to Daphne, who gave them a small, dry smirk.

"Sorry, no party tricks for me yet. Bickslow is gonna take some time to grow into, and I'm going to need more information before that."

"Bickslow?" Twin oval faces tipped sideways, brunette hair falling across freckled cheeks and blue-grey eyes. "Who's that?"

Daphne eagerly started to explain about computers and hard drives and _anime_ , about the Battle of Fairy Tail and the Raijinshū, or Thunder Legion, about all of the new magic. Astoria stole a lollipop from Flora's pocket and tugged the satchel full of manga volumes off of Hestia's shoulder, stretched and then twisted herself – carefully! – until she was balanced on her elbows and chest, one hand on her chin, one holding the first volume, with her back in the air, and her feet bent over so that her toes _just_ touched her head. One day, she would be so flexible that she could have her whole foot on her head, and be able to hold it all day – not just through a single chapter of Fairy Tail.

Moving slowly and gently, making sure not to jar anything, Astoria stretched herself out into a more normal position once she had finished the first chapter, balancing herself on the toes of one foot whilst she held the other straight up in one hand, and read chapter two in the other. She swapped legs for chapter three, and did her best to hold the splits through chapter four; by the time she had finished Volume One, Astoria had folded herself into the lotus position, and was breathing slowly and evenly, eyes flickering up to her sister and cousins every few pages.

By the time she was reaching for Volume Two, the Carrows had been caught up to date, and Daphne was starting to give Astoria worried glances from the corner of her eyes.

"Are you sure that Erza is the best magic for you?" Hestia asked slowly.

"It's really hands on," Flora added. "And you're really _not_."

Astoria glared at them. "I know what I'm doing! I can pull this off!"

"Your curse is life-threatening," Hestia pointed out. "If you move too quickly –"

"Or get hit too hard –" Flora tacked on.

"Then you would bleed to death,"

"Probably before anyone even realised what was going on."

Daphne burst out with a worried, "Even just falling too hard could – !"

"Shut up!" Astoria roared. Everybody blinked, took a half step backwards.

"I can be Erza," she said furiously. "I can! Just because I bleed too easily doesn't mean that I _can't do anything_! You don't need to keep wrapping me up in bubble charms and protegos! Nadja says that there are plenty of Muggles who have what I have, and they grow up, and they can fight, and do _normal_ things! And you know what _else_?! _Their parents don't wait and wish for them to_ _ **die**_ _!_ "

All of the children were quiet, Hestia and Flora out of shock, and Daphne in angry resignation, eyes closed and face turned away.

"They say that?" The twins whispered.

"When haven't they?" Daphne snarled back. "Ever since they realised that she had the old family curse, it's all they think about, all they talk about!"

"We never heard them…" The twins whispered.

"Of course you didn't! It was never where people could hear them, it was always at night when they think we can't hear them, or whenever someone puts more effort into catching Asa up to me then letting me get ahead!" Daphne glowered. "That's why I'm going to be Bickslow. So that, if anything ever happens, _I_ can control the outcome."

The twins exchanged solemn looks, before saying, "Let's make a guild."

Daphne and Astoria blinked in shock, before offering matching wicked grins.

"Nah," Daphne smirked.

"Let's _join_ a guild," Astoria added.

Together, they said, "Let's join the Baba Yaga Guild!"

* * *

 

**_2_ ** **_nd_ ** **_December 2009  
_ ** **_(Wednesday)_ **

Michael Granger missed the days when the weirdest thing he had to worry about was cryptic messages from Kazimir about a secret war. Now, he and Janine had spent most of the afternoon listening to Kazimir explain that their little Hermione was a _Muggleborn Witch_ , of all things, that she would go to _Hogwarts_ in _Scotland_ , that she was about to start teaching herself _magic_ out of an Asian comicbook.

At least Kazimir was decent enough to give them a bottle of the good vodka before they returned to London.

Hermione had wasted no time in asking for books on programming, on _Fairy Tail_ , on computer hardware and the background of Google Docs, Dropbox, Wikipedia. Michael held Kazimir and his dragonling daughter fully responsible. The fact that she was also asking about defence or dancing lessons, about putting out fliers so that she could do odd jobs for the neighbours to earn money, well, ok, maybe he was only going to go through half of that bottle tonight, instead of the whole thing.

The library was closed by the time they returned from Surrey, but they were more than capable of using google on their computers, printing out the information necessary for Hermione's newest round of research. Janine's work laptop was used to locate physical outlets for children in the area, locating three dance studios, two martial arts classes, and a soccer club.

Wisteria Petrovya and Harry Potter did yoga, ran laps, took self-defence from an MI5 agent and Petrovy elders, practiced falls and knew every Little Whinging jungle gym course in intimate detail. Hermione, who had informed her parents that her chosen magical disciple was going to be almost purely academical, needed all of the help catching up to her new guild masters as she could get.

"Hermione darling," Janine called. "Which of these do you like best?"

Hermione raced over from her nest of printed sheets of information, a flush in her cheeks and a sparkle in her brown eyes.

"I only have two Septembers to go until I go to Hogwarts," her daughter murmured, eyes flicking over the options on Janine's screen. "I'm a September behind them already, and Terry will have a September more than us anyway. Their magic is more hands-on than mine is, so I need to work harder than them. I'll do ballet, tae kwon do, _and_ football. It'll be busy, but it's the best way to help me be fitter."

"Are you sure darling?" Janine worried.

Hermione gave her a very sad, Grown Up sort of smile that had no place on a ten-year-old's face. "My only friend's live in Surrey, and none of the other kids at school like a freaky know-it-all. It's not as if I'm going to fail or lose any friends over this. I know what I'm doing, Mum. Don't worry."

Squashing down the lump that rose in her throat at that assessment, Janine printed off the necessary forms for Yao's ballet, Hadri Taekwondo Academy, and West Ham Junior Football Club. She had a lot of phone calls to go through in the morning.


	15. Bill and Ben...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nadja has a hangover. Terry is bored. Harry just wants to be a good mage, and Hilly regrets all life choices.

**_Baba Yaga Guild_ **

Chapter Fifteen: ... The Flowerpot Men

 **I love you all. You are amazing. Work recently has been …** ** _interesting_** **(read: shit and stressful). I have actually been crying on the phone to my parents some days, but fingers crossed it's all going to work out. A huge shout out to** StrongGuy159 **,** GMWW **,** foxchick1 **,** HyroAndFriends **,** Jaw94 **,** alsmolek7452 **,**  william and jack and jake **,** HaniB2003 **,** Art **,** loretta537 **, and the** Guests **as well. Thank you all so much for being so patient with me. Someone please remind me why I work in tourism -_-"**

**Ahead there being swearing. Ye be warned**

* * *

**_7_ ** **_th_ ** _December 2009  
_ **_(Monday)_ ** __  


There was an incessant ringing in Nadja's ears that was in part because of her hangover and in part because her phone was blasting  _The Nutbush_.

"…Allo?" Nadja mumbled, spitting Hilly's hair out of her face and scrubbing a hand over her lips. "Why does my mouth taste like mustard?"

"Are you sober now, niece mine?" Kazimir drawled from the other end.

"…What d'you want, Dyadya?"

"I want you to convince my daughter and her friends to  _stop_  playing that  _infernal_  song, ultimately, but right now I'll settle for finding out what got  _you_  so gloriously drunk last night. Also, why were you putting a country to bed?"

"Mum's family are dicks. I think. Repeat the second question?"

"' _Ya dolzhen polozhit' moy Kitay v postel'_." Kazimir enunciated. "That's what you told me last night."

"China… I musta meant Hilly." Nadja mumbled, scrubbing at her face again. "Gods, my  _head_."

"Self-inflicted agony warrants no sympathy, Nadezhda." Kazimir scolded.

"YA Nadya!" She snarled. "I'm getting really sick of people changing my name! I  _am_  me, and I'd love it if everyone would remember that!" Her piece said, she hung up and threw the phone across the room.

"Fāshēngle shénme?" Hilly slurred from the floor. "Ō! Wǒ de tóu!"

"Of course your head hurts," Nadja scolded. "Lookit how much we went through last night." Here she gestured to the collection of cans and bottles that littered the side table. Hilly made an inarticulate noise that may have been a groan, a snarl, or an actual attempt at cursing. "Who was that, anyway?"

"Dyadya – Uncle Kazimir. The kids are playing  _the Nutbush_  again." "If we're gonna go 'n' check it out, you better sober us up, first." Hilly mumbled, still rubbing at her temples. "I ain't going all the way to Surrey hungover. I don't love you that much."

Nadja smiled. "O, kak ty zabotish'sya obo mne, moya kitayskaya sestra. Gimme a sec."

Being a Squib does not mean that you cannot do potions. In fact, the Petrovy had long prided themselves on their Potions and Herbology performances, simply because they were some of the few classes that all clansmen had equal footing and ability in. Nadja Dhione Petrovya may have never known Severus Snape or Horace Slughorn's dungeon classroom, or even the brewing rooms of Koldovstoretz, under Yelena Belikova's care, but her potions had never once in her life been anything less than stellar. It was common knowledge amongst their peers that Nadja's hangover cure was second to none, and that those who drank one of her odd herbal teas when ill was more likely to recover, and recover  _well_.

In the flat she shared with her relatives, Hillary Yao had many of Nadja's dried potions. There were "tea mixes" for hangovers, for exhaustion, for muscle pains, even to help with study (or anime) binges, or too-long-stakeouts, all of varying strengths. Nadja knew where the Yao's stored said mixes, and was able to draw up a mug for both Hilly and herself within five minutes. By the time Alex and Jack had both stumbled in the front door (one recovering from an intensive dance rehearsal and equally intensive "sleepover", the other from a wild night at the clubs), Nadja was as crisp as an Autumn leaf, and Hilly was suitably "not dead".

"Long night, then?" Jack asked, side-eyeing his cousin and her best friend, and the copious remains of alcohol.

"I could say the same," Hilly grumbled, nursing her second cup of hangover cure. "This is so late it's early, for you two."

Alex scrubbed at their eyes, mumbled something about drinking games and Yeager bombs, and retreated to the room they shared with Jack, stealing Hilly's mug on their way.

"Don't you have exams today?" Jack called after them – he received an unintelligible mumble, and the finger.

"And you?" Hilly asked her cousin, making herself up a travel mug.

"Practice starts at one, I'm good for a nap before then." He reassured her, stretching his arms above his head – and then, one at a time, each of his legs as well. "And I've got the newbie group tonight, anyway, so it should be easy."

"Do we get to meet the lucky fella?" Nadja teased after getting a glimpse of the hickies scattering Jack's neck and belly.

"No, fuck you both." Jack smiled cheerfully, making himself a quick  _sweet dreams_  tea. "What're you doing today?"

"Fuck you too," Hilly grumbled, swatting reaching hands away from the kettle. "Not gonna tella ya if you're gonna be rude."

With an eyeroll, Nadja checked to see how her phone was charging, grabbed apples and muesli bars, and dragged Hilly out the front door. "We're going to Surrey for the day! Don't do anything I would!"

With Jack's laughter at her back, Hilly's grumbling at her side and the hangover cure working it's almost-magic, Nadja felt that today was sure to be an improvement.

* * *

 **_7_ ** **_th_ ** _December 2009  
_ **_(Monday)_ ** __  


Terry was  _booooorrred~!_  Or so she made a point of telling Harry, every five minutes, as they waited for the lunchbell. They had a double of maths before their lunch break, but both Babas had blitzed through the work, and had spent the last half hour trying to refine their magic – using small winds and vibrations to knock items over, without anyone noticing it was them, with great success. Of course, Dudley was adamant that it was them flicking rubbers and other odds and ends at the back of his head, but since they were on the other side of the room, the teacher told him to be quiet, and behave.

If he hadn't  _continued_  to complain, Harry and Terry (mostly Terry) probably would have left him alone, but they (she) were bored, and it was more than a little bit entertaining. Even when the teacher figured out that they had finished their work and had given them more, the Babas had steamrolled through that material as well, and Terry had turned to annoying Harry.

"Bored. Bored. I'm  _sooooooo_  bored~!" She hummed, just quiet enough for only the two of them to hear, fingers tapping lightly on the desk.

Harry, who was  _trying_  to conduct further research on soundwaves from a textbook that he probably wasn't supposed to be reading at nine-years-old, kicked her.

"Study a skeleton or something." He grumbled. "You're making this harder than it should be!"

"But that's what I did on Wednesday," Terry reasoned. "And I studied muscle attachments on Thursday, and air temperatures on Friday."

"What about mol-moleluca- mol _ek_ u _lah_  structures?"

"Harry." Terry deadpanned. "I have an eidetic memory. I've already studied that. I'm  _bored_. Let's skip! Like they do on the tellie, and we'll just go train all day!"

Harry struggled with the highly tempting offer.

"What'll we do when they tell your Dad and my aunt and uncle?" He finally said.

Terry pouted, and slumped forward in her seat. "I wish we could create thought projections, like Jellal could." She grumbled. "Then no one would notice if we disappeared, and we could work on the physical side of things more!"

Harry thought hard for a moment, before smiling brightly. "Uchit'sya uchit'sya?" He asked haltingly.

Terry gave him a dagger-sharp smile in return. "Vash aktsent uzhasen, Garri."

Harry wrinkled his nose, unimpressed, and was about to retort with one of the (many) swearwords Terry had taught him, when the teacher walked past them once more.

"Mr Potter! Miss Petrovya! Don't tell me you've finished  _again_!"

The Babas exchanged looks, before Terry blithely said, "Well, what do you want me to tell you instead, Mr Flegg?"

Whilst the teacher spluttered, the lunchbell  _finally_  rang; there was a flurry of children finishing off their last equation and throwing books in bags. By the time the other children were ready to go, Terry and Harry were dancing at the door.

The teacher sighed. "Alright, alright, whatever you haven't finished can be homework. Mr Potter, Miss Petrovya, just… I don't know. Write me fifty words on what we might use long division for in the real world, and a summary of this chapter. I don't even care anymore. Just go."

The Babas  _bolted_  from the classroom, cartwheeling down the halls towards to Refactory ahead of the rest of the school, giggling wildly. After scarfing down their lunch, they ducked their heads into the kitchen area to help with the washing up for something different to do, and then spent most of their lunch break doing pullups on the jungle gym, falling down the sides of the oval and versing some of the other girls at skipping rope and double dutch.

After lunch was Art – spent painting Wendy Marvel and Yuka Suzuki, and causing Dudley's tube of red paint to explode when he went to pull Haley Atwell's pigtails – and after that they had French. Terry rather enjoyed it, but Harry was already struggling his way through Russian, and really felt that that was more than enough extra languages, thank you very much.

By the time they had their final break and were leaving the schoolyard, Terry's sharp nose and ears picked up a familiar scent and voice.

"Vasi! Vasya, come and meet moya kitayskaya sestra, Hillary Yao." Nadja called, waving a languid hand from the front gate.

"Nadja!" Both Baba's yelled, careening towards their honorary member.

"Uchit'sya uchit'sya?" Harry asked excitedly.

Nadja burst out laughing, and Terry cuffed him over the head.

"That's not the right – "

"Doesn't matter, Vasya," Nadja soothed, ruffling flyaway curls. Turning to the Asian woman next to her, Nadja gestured to each child and said, "Hilly, this is Terry Petrovya, my cousin, and her best friend, Harry Potter. They're little pocket rockets!"

Hilly gave a weak smile, and Terry caught a whiff of Nadja's particular variation of the hangover cure (familiar after most family gatherings). "Your own little Flower Pot Men, huh, Jar Jar?"

"We're not twins," Terry said, confused.

"Or kids' show characters…" Harry added, slightly uncomfortable. Nadja and Hilly both chuckled, and Harry received his own head rub.

"Come on, scallywags." Nadja said fondly. "Let's head back to your guildhall, yeah? We'll do a little bit of training – and this time, we're going to use a song  _other_  than  _the Nutbush_. Okie dokie?"

* * *

**Translations:**

Allo **– Hello on the phone  
** Ya dolzhen polozhit' moy Kitay v postel' **– I have to put my China to bed (google translate was used for drunkenness)  
** Kitay **– China  
** Nadezhda **– hope, the full form for Nadya/Nadja.  
** YA Nadya!  **– I'm Nadja  
** O, kak ty zabotish'sya obo mne, moya kitayskaya sestra –  **Oh how you look after me/how you care about me, my Chinese sister  
** Fāshēngle shénme? –  **what happened?  
** Ō! Wǒ de tóu! –  **Ow! My head!  
** Uchit'sya uchit'sya? – **Learn to learn?  
** Vash aktsent uzhasen, Garri –  **Your accent is terrible, Harry  
** Flower Pot Men –  **Bill and Ben, the Flower Pot Men, were a kinda funky kids cartoon. This was intended as a play of words; Harry/Terry, Bill/Ben.**


	16. Hip Hop Hooray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilly teaches the Babas some dance moves, Daphne and co choose their magicks, and Hermione has a mild panic attack

**_ Chapter Sixteen _ **

_ Baba Yaga Guild _

Chapter Sixteen: Hip Hop Hooray

**GUYS GUYS GUYS So Dr Stephen Poropat just released his reappraisal of _Austrosaurus,_ Queensland’s first Cretaceous period sauropod, which is super cool!  Also Steve is the biggest dork to ever dork, and is the most loveable arsehole I have ever met, so if you are into Australian dinosaurs, please check it out and give him all of the love!!  (but don’t do what I did and read it intoxicated, it’ll just hurt your head)  
Also, a HUGE thank you to **HootingLance **(WritersCafe.org) for being my amazing beta for this chapter!   Thanks also to all of the kudos and bookmarks, but especially to** HaniB2003 **,** Art **and** loretta537 **for the reviews last chapter!**

* * *

 

**_7 th December 2009_ **

**_(Monday)_ **

 

It had to be admitted, Hillary Yao was perhaps the best part of the Babas’ afternoon.  Having grown up in a well-known and respected dance studio, she was the perfect person to try and break the children of their poor musical taste and training regime.  Having connected her own phone up to the speaker system, Hilly had coached the children through a series of different dance routines that were best adaptable to fighting styles.

                      

Having been informed by Nadja that Hilly predominantly practiced hiphop, with some classical training in ballet, the children had already picked out their dance styles before their impromptu training session, with Harry and Terry requesting the former, Hermione having already claimed the latter. Much to their chargrin, Hilly informed them that they'd be learning neither, not until mastering the basics. So when Kazimir returned from the hospital earlier than expected, it was to the sight of the Babas being guided through basic foot movements and the occasional acrobatic tumble.  Personally, he found this to be a huge improvement from the shadow boxing and throws the children had been practicing over the last few weeks.

 

“Dyadya,” Nadja called, pulling out of the makeshift dance class.  “Sorry about earlier – how was work?”

 

Offering up a tired smile, Kazimir gave her a tight, one-armed hug.  “All is well, niece mine.  Now, what do you have our little dragonlings doing?”

 

“Hilly’s teaching them hiphop basics – the music is much more varied this way, uncle, we’ve had them doing different dances to each new song, to encourage variety.”  The last was said with a cheeky grin.

 

Kazimir snorted, and pinched her cheek, before calling out to the Babas.

 

“Papochka, look at we can do now!”  Terry crowed, her and Harry both showing off a small routine that they had just learnt, Temnaya Polnoch’ shadowing them to the best of her feline abilities.

 

The adults gave the required round of applause, and Kazimir asked if any plans had been made towards dinner; Harry was reminded that he was supposed to be helping his aunt cook tonight, and Hilly and Nadja had to catch the final London train else risk Hilly being late to work the next morning, leaving father and daughter (and cat) to walk down the street for fish and chips.

 

“Did you have fun today?”  Kazimir asked his daughter.

 

“Yeah!  We weren’t expecting Nadja to pick us up, that really made our day!  It was _soo_ boring at school, Papochka, and then Hilly taught us all those new moves!”

 

“And how goes your guildwork now?  I saw Nadja had papers with your symbol all over it.”

 

“Mm, one of Nadja’s cousins has learnt Erza’s magic, and she and her sister were thinking about joining Baba – we were going over how they might be able to sneak away without their parents finding out, the blood purists.”

 

Having met most of the Greengrass family at his brother’s wedding, Kazimir wasn’t surprised that so much effort had to go into organising a simple play date.

 

“And the rest of the papers?”

 

“Research.  Daphne and Astoria don’t have as much access to Fairy Tail stuff as Harry and I do, so we’ve been studying their magicks for them, and Nadja is going to deliver it the next time she sees them.”

 

“It is good to see you with so many friends now, moy malen’kiy tsvetok.  I trust you will all know each other by the time you get to Hogwarts?”

 

Terry flashed her father a brittle, knife-edged smile.  “Well, we haven’t knocked Koldovstoretz or Durmstrang yet, you know.  It’d be nicer over there, I think.  More cultural.”

 

Kazimir raised his eyebrow, and ruffled his daughter’s wild curls.  “Big dreams as usual, dear heart.  Let’s just concentrate on passing Muggle school first, alright?”

 

“Yes, Papochoka.  Oh, did I tell you?  Hermione joined all the clubs she wanted!!  Well, she’s been accepted, but the only ones she can go to right now are the football at the indoor centre, and the tae kwon do classes; the ballet school wasn’t taking new people so soon before their Christmas concert, but Hilly says she’ll put in a good word for ‘Mione with her grandma.”

 

“Her grandmother?”

 

“Yeah, she’s in charge of Yao’s Ballet and Dance Studio – Hilly’s been dancing her _whole_ life, can you believe that!”

 

“Ah, that is good news!  You believe she will be able to catch up to yourself and Harry before too long?”

 

“Are you kidding?  Papochka, she caught up to the manga and figured out the basics of her magic in a _week_ , and _still_ retained an A average in her schoolwork!  Plus, I looked at some of the books she had to read to understand databasing, and _ohmygod_ Papochka, they’re so thick!  Her dad _actually_ uses one as a doorstop when they move stuff into the surgery!”

 

“She might be able to teach you a thing or two, yes?”  Kazimir teased.  “Your little scholar won’t be so far behind, anymore.”

 

Terry pouted the rest of the walk to the shops – she hated it when her father was right.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**_8 th December 2009_ **

**_(Tuesday)_ **

 

_To the spinning shack on chicken feet, the protectors of the small, the helpful, the witch with iron teeth.  We share a cousin in Nadja, and we share a desire to expand our magic, following the laws of Fairy Tail.  All four of us have chosen a magical discipline to study, and one of us has already been successful.  We wish to join your guild.  Please send your reply via return owl._

_We are in your care,_

_Bickslow.  Erza.  Kageyama.  Elfman._

 

“It’s not too… I don’t know, formal?”  Astoria questioned, looking over her elder sister’s shoulder at the note the four cousins had drafted together.

 

“I think it’s cute,” Hestia said defensively.  It had, after all, been her idea to use Nadja’s original words to the Greengrass sisters as the address.

 

“It _is_ a little bit ramble-y,” Flora added.  She had wanted to address the letter as, _To the Masters of the Baba Yaga Guild_.

 

Daphne rolled her eyes at all three.  “Look, we’ve been at this for two hours, and we don’t even have a hundred words to our name.  It’s fine, they aren’t going to expect a textbook on why they should take us on.  The fact that Asa has already learnt her magic should be reason enough – that we,” here she gestured to herself and the twins, “have already chosen our magic, that we’re cousins with Nadja, and that she’s already mentioned us to the Masters, that’s all overkill.”

 

“‘No kill like overkill’,” The twins shrugged, quoting Nadja.

 

Daphne sniffed, tilting her nose up with as much dignity as she could.  “Anyway, let’s all vote.  ‘Aye’ if you’re for this note, ‘nyet’ if you want to rewrite it.  Aye.”

 

“Aye.”

 

“Aye.”

 

“Nyet.”

 

Three glares were levelled at Astoria, causing the tiny blonde to blush fiercely.  “It doesn’t sound right!”  She said defensively.  “We sound like a bunch of pompous purebloods!”

 

“We _are_ purebloods, though,” Flora deadpanned.

 

“Maybe we should do something about the pompous bit,” Hestia added, fiddling with a lock of mousy hair.

 

“It is _fine_ , they won’t even care!”  Daphne grumbled.  “Let’s just have Dipsy deliver this to Wisteria, and see whether or not they’ll accept us.  The worst they can do is say is no; if they do, we’ll just create our _own_ guild.  Dipsy!”

 

With a _crack!_ the house elf appeared in the middle of the four young mages.

 

“Yes, young Mistress?”  The elf asked with a curtsy.

 

Daphne folded up the letter, and handed it over.  “Please deliver this to Nadja’s other cousin, Wisteria Petrovya.  _Do not_ tell Father or Mother about what you’ve done.  Do you understand?”

 

Dipsy nodded, bulbous eyes blown wide, and large ears flopping about her face.  “Yes, my young Mistress.  Dipsy will be keeping your secrets for youse.”

 

Daphne gave a small smile.  “Thank you, Dipsy.  Be quick please.”

 

With another _crack!_ , the elf was gone, leaving the young mages behind.

 

“So,” Flora began faux-cheerfully.  “What are we going to be if they won’t take us on?  Phantom Lord?”

 

“Merlin and Morgana!”  Hestia exclaimed.  “Don’t be stupid!  You want to make us out to be a Dark guild from the beginning?!”

 

“Not Dark, powerful!”  Her sister snapped back. 

 

“That’ll do,” Daphne interrupted, pushing them apart.  “Let’s not use a name from the books – we’ll just look like copycats, if we do that.  We’ll make ourselves original – an animal or creature and an adjective shouldn’t be that hard.”

 

Hestia raised her hand excitedly.  “Sweet Rusalka!” 

 

“Rasa – those mermaid things in the Black Sea?”  Flora exclaimed, bug eyed.

 

“There’s nothing _sweet_ about them, they drown people for _fun_!”  Astoria gasped.

 

“But Nadja says we have a sweet tooth!”  Hestia defended.  “And the boys say that we’re “viscous little harpies”, anyway!”

 

Daphne calmly raised her hand, and very firmly said, “ _Nyet_.”

 “Something to do with elves, maybe?”  Astoria suggested, whilst Hestia pouted.  “Dipsy is the main reason we’ll be able to pull off all of this, so maybe… Blonde Elf?  Or, I dunno, what are the Russian ones called?”

 

“Domovoi, aren’t they?”  Flora asked. 

 

“No, those are the boys,” Daphne followed up.  “The girls are called Kikimora.

 

“Kikimora Fair!”  Astoria shouted.

 

Even as Hestia was agreeing with Astoria, Flora was quick to offer an alternative.  “Why not just call ourselves the Drop Bear Guild, if nothing else?”  She snarked.  “I don’t get why you’re throwing out all these Slavic creatures.”

 

Daphne was playing with the end of her quill.  “It’s for Nadja – she’s the reason any of us can learn this magic, and Fairy Tail.  But, what do you think about… Amber Dola?  Amber fate, bright fortune, stuff like that?  And then the guild mark could be four ovals in a diamond pattern, like a four-leaf clover, but out of amber drops.”

 

There was a pause as all three mages looked to Daphne, before tentative smiles took over their faces. 

“Aye.”

 

“Aye.”

 

“Aye, sir!”

 

Daphne smiled back.  “Ok.  If the Babas won’t have us, then that’ll be us!  Amber Dola!”

 

“The fortune, fate and prayer,” Flora offered, eyes alight.

 

“The bright light of the past, leading us to the future,” Hestia added excitedly.

 

Before anything else could come of the whole idea, there was another sharp _crack!_ , and Dipsy appeared amongst them once again.

 

“Young Mistress!”  She squeaked excitedly.  “They is accepting you into they’s guild!  They is sending you a letter back with Dipsy, from the Masters theyselves!”

 

 

* * *

 

**_9 th December 2009_ **

**_(Wednesday)_ **

 

Hermione Granger had thrown herself into learning the Fioran magic, as the Masters had, and she had also chased up every possible bit of side-reading she could get her hands on.  Within five days she had devoured countless books on programming and databases, and taken down all of the notes that were available on the wikia page regarding Hibiki’s Archive.  Her mother was more than happy to teach Hermione the yoga she had picked up during her pregnancy, as well as sneaking Hermione along to Pilates classes, which would help to build up her flexibility and core strength.  One of their neighbours had a fifteen-year-old son who was heavily into fitness, and so Hermione had been tagging along on his early-morning jogs, trying to build up her endurance, as well as learning pushups and pullups.

 

_Thunk!_

 

Hermione had decided.  She _hated_ football.  And boys.  And in particular, boys who played football.  But most _especially_ boys who played football _and cheated_.

 

Since she was only ten, Hermione was a part of the West Ham youth league, which was a mixed team that had the misfortune of having one Jamie O’Donnall as their “star” player.  Hermione hated his guts, and had been penning emails and letters to Terry on a daily basis asking for horrible names to call him in Russian.

 

Jamie O’Donnall was a bully.  He liked to trip kids on rival teams when no one was looking.  He liked to force other kids to buy him cool things from the shops, or give him their sweets.  He didn’t think reading or schoolwork were all that important, so he didn’t like the booksmart Hermione one little bit.  He also thought that art and music and dance were wastes of time as well, so he liked to pick on the three other girls on the team, as well as one Dean Thomas.

 

Hermione liked Dean Thomas the best out of all of the kids at League.  He was funny, and was a really good drawer, and his older sister was one of the best ballerinas at Yao’s.  Dean Thomas would help the other two girls who were at Yao’s with their moves, before or after practice at the indoor centre, and he tried to stand up for all of the other kids who got on Jamie’s bad side.  He also was the only kid to recognise her copy of Volume Eight that she had had at practice on the first day, and so they had been tentative friends since the first day.  It was Dean who saw how her eyes constantly flickered all over the field, and how she was always where she was supposed to be, if at all possible, even though her stamina wasn’t the same as some of the other kids.

 

It was Dean Thomas who recommended that Hermione replace Jamie as the Goalie, and she hadn’t made up her mind whether she should thank him or knock his lights out.  She was thankful, because being the goalie meant that she was still doing the same amount of training, but was augmenting her physical training with mental calculations, as well: which angle will let the ball into her net, which shots will fly wide, where does she need to be to catch the next ball?

 

Unfortunately, Jamie was taking particular pleasure in aiming the ball right for Hermione – especially her face, which _really_ hurt.  Hence the hatred.

 

_Thunk!_

 

Shaking with fury, Hermione pulled herself up off the ground, and levelled her best glare at the source of her ire.

 

“ _You_ ,” she hissed, “are _so lucky_ I am learning Archive!”  Eyes bright with fury, Hermione launched the ball back with as much force as she could.  Jamie shrieked as the ball rocketed towards him, sending him reeling across the field.  Distantly, Hermione recognised the pull of her magic, and supposed that she must have charged the shot by accident.  Even though she was benched for the rest of the game, Jamie’s reaction made it worth it.

 

“Hey, Hermione?”  Dean joined her at half time, offering her a bottle of water and a small smile.  “You did good, you know?  The ref shouldn’t let him get away with as much as he does.”

 

Hermione returned the smile, slightly bitter.  “Thanks, Dean.  And thanks for telling them I’d make a good goalie – it was fun while it lasted.”

 

Dean waved her thanks away, teeth flashing brightly.  “No worries!  But, I got a question for you.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“When you said _archive_ out there, what did you mean?”

 

“Databases, and stuff.”  She hedged, taking a quick drink of water.  Unlike the Baba Masters, Hermione was not cut out for lying.

 

“You’re into computers?”  Dean asked, surprised.

 

Hermione nodded jerkily.  “What about yourself?”

 

“Mm, I like art… and magic, I guess.”

 

Hermione froze, before squeaking out.  “Magic?  … Um, cards and stuff?” 

 

Dean grinned cheerfully just as the call for the second half went out, standing and walking away with a jaunty wave.

 

“Catchya later, Granger!”

 

_He knows_ , she panicked.  _What if he tells someone?  Terry says that the Statute of Secrecy exists for a reason, Muggles aren’t supposed to know about magic!_

_Adults never believe these sorts of things, though_ , a calmer side of her reasoned.

 

_But what if they_ do, she wailed to herself.  _And what if the school finds out!_

 

Dean ran up along the wing, dodging the opposition and skidding in to steal the ball.

_What if the refuse to accept me now?!_   She fretted, watching.  _What if they take my magic from me, and never let me go to Hogwarts, or make me forget all about, or take away my friends, or…!_

 

Needless to say, by the time the game had finished, Hermione was pale and shaking, and actually felt like throwing up, she was so worried.  It didn’t help that Jamie “accidentally” knocked into her on his way off the field, sending her to the ground.  Shivering violently, Hermione curled into a ball, terrified.

 

“Hey, you alright, Granger?”  Dean asked worriedly, crouching down just out of reach.  “Do you want me to get anyone for ya?”

 

She shook her head quickly, stray curls flying about her face.  “Fine,” she choked out.

 

Dean squinted at her.  “You don’t _look_ fine.  Did Jamie hurt ya?”

 

“...No.”

 

“Then, is it something I said?”

 

At her flinch, Dean’s mahogany eyes widened in panic.  “Aw man, I’m sorry!  What did I say?!”

 

“Are you going to tell anyone?”  Hermione finally whispered miserably.

 

“Tell - ?  No, it’s a secret, promise!  Look, see?”  Pulling a sharpie from his pocket, Dean took Hermione’s hand and drew a smiley sun.  Frowning in concentration for a moment, Dean cracked a grin when the picture came to life and hovered just above Hermione’s hand, _poof_ ing away before any adults could notice.

 

“I’m just like you,” He breathed.  “I can do the Fairy Tail magic, too.”

  

**Translations:**

moy malen’kiy tsvetok – **my little flower**


End file.
